Engel's Wing
by Terence Waverly
Summary: Rated T for mentions of gore, torture, and dark themes. It has often been observed that the simplest actions of one person can change the lives of millions of others that that person has never met. So it was with this one. LxOC, one-way MisaxLight
1. Chapter 0

**I do not own Death Note... Or any of the characters... or anything at all, in fact. I now briefly bewail my poverty. **

**........**

**...I'm done now.**

**I know this prologue doesn't seem to be connected to Death Note in any way, shape or form, but it is, I promise!**

**Warning: graphic descriptions of carnage. If you can't handle blood/gore, you may want to consider skipping the prologue. I will provide a synopsis in bold at the bottom for the squeamish. However, if you're not, you might want to read the below; it's kind of important backgroundishness. Moving on.**

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**Prologue**

On May 4th 1943, the world was at war. The Axis Powers –Germany, Italy, and Japan –still stood strong and confident against the Allies, and the War showed no signs of ending anytime soon. Everyone was busy with the problems of the times; they had no time to worry about the stench that wafted from the barren land just beyond the trees –that was the excuse many German citizens gave when asked how they could tolerate living just outside the most horrific of the Third Reich's sins: the concentration camps. However, on May 4th 1943, something happened that would affect the lives of millions. That day, in Dachau concentration camp, a 17-year-old girl died. While being forced to stand in one spot for over 36 hours with no rest, food, or water, –the torture augmented by the fact that she, like all other prisoners who had been there for any length of time, was so underfed and maltreated that she could barely stand or talk –she had been repeatedly told to renounce the cause of freedom for which her parents had already died. When she stalwartly refused even after this period, one of her torturers grew frustrated with her, beat her, and threw the heavy oak chair he had been sitting in at her. The force of his throw hurtled both the girl and the chair into the concrete wall behind her, and the heavy chair literally broke her fragile body in half, killing her.

She had not been materially important to the wardens, so no one should have noticed. Evil had so twisted the minds and hearts of these men that the death of an innocent child was not even worth mentioning. After all, several thousand others had gone before her, and those in charge fully intended that several thousand more would be cruelly and brutally slaughtered after she was gone.

There were two earthly things that made this girl different from the others that day, though. One: she had been offered the chance at leaving the prison camp, albeit after a thorough brainwashing and rehabilitation. Two: when she died, someone _did_ care. Ironically, it was the very man who killed her.

His name was Ehrich Rauch, a 20-year-old product of the National Socialist party, born and bred to hate the Jews and all others who opposed the tyranny of the Third Reich. Perhaps it was because they were so close in age; perhaps it was divine intervention –it is up to you to decide –but as the chair he had hurled struck the girl, Ehrich Rauch felt, for the first time, a stab of guilt so sharp that he nearly vomited. His diary, which he bequeathed to the Holocaust museum shortly before his death, describes the experience:

"Today has changed me forever. Today, I looked at all of my accomplishments for the glorious Third Reich, and realized that I had in fact been committing the most ghastly crimes a man can, all the while being approved by my own dear mother country. I killed a girl today. I was to convince her to swear her allegiance to our celebrated Fuhrer by forcing her to stand while denying her food, drink, and sleep and commanding her over and over to give up and end her suffering; she knew that all she had to do was swear to serve the Fuhrer. My shift with her was from early morning until mid-afternoon, and she had already been standing there for about 30 hours, according to my comrades. After she repeatedly refused, though, I lost my temper and threw a chair at her. Her years in this camp had made her so brittle that the chair actually broke her.

As I realized what I had done, I felt a strange sensation overtake me. It was as if, for the first time, I realized that all the Jews and insurrectionists that I had brutalized, tortured, and done disgustingly inhumane things to in the past were, in fact, human beings who had done nothing wrong –in fact, they are more right than I have ever been. I know that these thoughts originate from what I have overheard from the prisoners themselves. I have found myself listening to their words more and more often; however, when I saw what I had done to this girl, I finally realized the truth of their words.

As her two halves and the chair slid to the floor, I felt bile rush up and clog my throat, but all that came out of me was the choked sounds of dry retching as my body reacted to the truth my mind had uncovered. Tears sprang unbidden to my eyes as they rose against my will to again consider the object of my rage.

Her blood covered the wall and the top of the chair back –it flowed freely from her separated body and parted lips. I never imagined that such an emaciated creature could hold so much blood… All this I saw through my blurred vision, but then I was distracted from her condition by the most amazing thing I have ever and, I am sure, will ever see. The girl was holding her hands out to me and beckoning me, pity written on her hunger- and pain-ravaged features. My unwilling body moved into her bloody embrace of its own accord and she wrapped her frail, bony arms around me. She was so thin that I could barely feel the weight of them. I sobbed into her pitiful shoulder, unable to speak. Then, she drew her head near my ear and whispered in a halting, cracked voice, "I forgive you," she paused, mustering her strength for her last words: "I forgive _all_ of you…" she struggled another pointless breath into her shriveled body, and I pulled back to look into her enormous eyes.

The color of those eyes was indescribable. I do not know if there is even a word for the color they were –but it was the most beautiful color I have ever and will ever see. Although I know I have no right to hope I will ever be there, I believe heaven will have that color in it in abundance.

She met my gaze evenly and continued, "God will forgive you, too–"she coughed, and her mouth gushed out blood all over my uniform, but I didn't care. I hung on her every word. "There is _hope_… for you… God… be with… you…" she gasped, and after uttering these few words, she let out a long, shuddering breath, and her arms fell from me as her body went limp in my caress. I saw her spirit leave that miserable corpse. She died with her eyes open, and I saw the very moment that they ceased to be that indescribable color and faded into a dull, pale gray. I closed her eyes after laying her remains down in the pool of her own blood. In that moment, I made a decision. I will no longer stand by and watch this slaughter without attempting to save the innocents who suffer in it. I will save as many of the people in this camp as I am able. I cannot do it outright, for I am but one man against the might of the great Third Reich. But I will do what I can; I will steal out as many of these poor, defenseless souls as I am able. I am myself a warden; no one will suspect me. I know that such actions will not atone for the hideous acts I have already committed, but I can bear no longer the idea of sitting idly by as my countrymen butcher these people.

I smuggled her out of the camp and buried her in the private cemetery. I will commission a stonemason to carve her a proper gravestone when I have the time and means –at least one of those poor wretches shall have a proper grave. I do not know her name; I did not look at her number. Therefore, I shall call her the only way I know how: as she is to me. On her grave there shall be one word: **ENGEL**. (**a/n**: German word. Translation: "angel") And at it, I shall do remembrance to all the millions who have been killed in these camps by my people. That is all I can do.

I am a murderer. My sins are too great for me to bear. But my Angel has given me hope; I can only pray that God, in His infinite mercy, will grant me entrance into heaven that I may see her again."

Every year until his death, he made a pilgrimage to Dachau to mourn the girl. He found out only part of her name from one of her friends, who happened to be one of the lucky people that Rauch was able to rescue. His angel's first name was Maria. He named his first daughter Maria in her honor, and his family continued the tradition at his request.

Ehrich Rauch succeeded in rescuing and rehabilitating over 500 prisoners of Dachau before the War ended.

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**OK, there you go: Prologue.**

**Now, for the faint of heart: On May 4th, 1943, a girl in Dachau, one of the largest German concentration camps, is brutally murdered when, in a fit of rage at her stalwart refusal to deny her parent's cause and swear allegiance to Hitler, her torturer, a man named Ehrich Rauch, throws a heavy oak chair at her. She is so emaciated and weak that the chair breaks pretty much everything it hits, and upon seeing this, her Nazi-bred killer feels, for the first time, guilt for what he has done to those in the camps. With her remaining strength, she forgives him and tells him that God will, too. He smuggles her body out of the camp and buries it in a local graveyard and, deciding that she was God's way of calling him back from darkness and not aware of her name, he resolves to call her "Engel", which is German for angel. He dedicates the rest of the war to secretly sneaking people out of Dachau and succeeded in rescuing about 500 before the war ended. He later found out hte first name of the girl he had killed, and he named his first daughter in her honor: Maria. At his request, his family continued this tradition which he established.**

Feel free to review! In fact, reviews are appreciated. ;)

Over and out, _**Terence Waverly**_


	2. Chapter 1

**I don't own Death Note. Or any of the characters. Or anything. At all. Ever. Happy?**

**So, next chapter. Feel free to review; I fear no constructive criticism. ;D**

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**Chapter 1**

Watari was what some would call a 'religious' man. His great-great grandfather had been introduced to the concept of one God by a Christian missionary, and his family had carried down the traditions of Christianity all the way to Watari himself. Since he had been a Christian since he was very young, he had figured out the way things worked. At least once every day, you were to pray to God and tell Him about all the things that were happening around and ask Him for help. He had also been told that God knew everything, so he sometimes wondered if God needed to be told what was going on. He was also told that if he prayed faithfully, God would give him answers –sometimes, "Yes," sometimes, "No." As a child he had often waited for God to come and talk to him in person, or at least to hear His voice; all to no avail. As Watari grew older, he came to understand that God rarely spoke out loud; instead, He spoke to your heart, guiding you in the way you were to go.

Therefore, the last thing he expected when he prayed that night was an audible answer. He knew better than that. He would simply trust God, as he always did, and things would work out as they should, if not necessarily the way Watari wanted them to. He knelt down beside his bed and began. He prayed that Kira would repent of murdering people who, although they were certainly not innocent, deserved trials, just like everyone else did. He prayed that God would give L the wisdom and strength to catch and stop Kira, if nothing else. He prayed for the children of his orphanage and for their caretakers, that they would be kept safe and far from the shadow of terror that Kira spread. Finally, he returned to the subject nearest to his heart: L.

"Lord, I now ask you again, as I have for many years now –give Lawliet a friend; a true friend. Someone that he can talk to; someone who understands at least a little of what he has gone through… I know that he needs more than just me, although it pains me to say it– " his voice faltered as he fought back the tears that threatened to spill down his weathered, weary face. "Give him someone who will teach him that he can experience the world, just as others can." He drew his hand across his eyes, wiping away the tears. "Amen," he ended, just as he had been taught.

At that moment, brilliant light flashed before him, originating from everywhere and nowhere; dazzling, strobing magnificence that seared his eyes with its brightness. He fell back from the bed with a cry, his hands covering his face as he sought to hide from the burning radiance.

Then, a voice came; like the light, it seemingly had no definite origin. However, instead of being deep, powerful, and commanding, as one might expect after such a display, it was soft and gentle, almost like a child's. "God has heard you, faithful Watari," it began, as the man continued to cower in the corner, shielding his eyes from the light. "Do not be afraid. I am but a messenger, sent to tell you that your prayers will be answered. Everything shall come to pass as you have asked, but not necessarily in the way you expect," it informed him. "Have mercy, you are too bright for my old eyes, Angel," pleaded Watari, partially because he was curious to catch a glimpse of this ethereal personage.

"I cannot change what I am. Even so, there are far more wondrous beings than I in this universe. My purpose here is to give you a message, not satisfy your curiosity, Watari," the being replied. Watari crouched further down, a little ashamed that the being had seen through him so easily. "Do not be afraid. I will not harm you," the creature reassured him. "My last task is to tell you this: tomorrow, a girl will come to you. She will tell you that she knows an old friend of yours. Take her in and let her be of help to you. This is the first step to fulfilling your requests," the angel instructed. "How will I know who she is? I am often approached; is there no sign you can give me?" Watari pleaded tremulously. "Is this visit not proof enough? You will know her when you see her," the angel admonished. "You will know what to do when the time comes. Peace be with you," the being finished.

Then, just as suddenly as the angel appeared, it was gone. Watari uncovered his face and searched the room in vain; no trace of the light or presence remained. "How am I going to take care of this girl?" he asked the empty room.

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The next morning, Watari went to a farmer's market to get some fresh ingredients for the evening meal. As he was picking out apples, he felt a gaze on him. He turned and there, standing to his right, was a teenage girl. The girl was slim, but not skinny; not exceptionally tall, but certainly not short either. She had long, dark auburn hair that flowed all the way down to the small of her back in gentle waves. Her face was almost perfectly formed, although Watari could not see what gave him the impression that her visage was less than perfect; it was a feeling rather than a visible reality. Her eyes were almond-shaped and a clear, sparkling gray. However, her most noticeable feature to those around her was that, although most of her skin was hidden by faded, modish blue jeans, running shoes, and a conservative, black, long-sleeved top, what flesh did show was utterly and completely white.

Watari did a quick scan of his environs. There was not another white person in sight; this girl was the only one. As his eyes returned to her, she spoke, her tone quiet and respectful, but confident: "Are you Mr. Watari?" Watari answered cautiously, "Yes, child, I am." She politely extended her hand. As Watari shook it awkwardly, she continued, "My name is Maria Clara Geheim. I was the adopted grand-child of your good friend, Ehrich." "Ehrich Rauch; yes, of course; you must be his second Maria," Watari surmised, knowing of his friend's impromptu tradition, although his friend had never given him the details. "But why do you say that you _were_ his grand-child?" Watari queried. The girl gave him a long, sad look. "Because my Grand-father is dead, sir," she answered softly.

Watari was taken aback to hear that his old friend had died. Ehrich Rauch had often brought lonely creatures like this girl to Watari's orphanage and often returned to see how they were doing. Despite having served in the forces of the Third Reich during the Second World War, Ehrich truly had shown that his was a heart of gold.

"Why are you not with the rest of his family, then?" Watari prodded, once he had recovered a little. "I am actually the _third_ Maria, not the second. I have no ties to the rest of his family; only to him. I was the only one with him when he died –the rest of his family moved to America a few weeks before. Grand-father knew that they would have no place for me, so he told me to find you before he died. I had heard from Grand-father that you worked with a man named L, so when I heard that he was solving the Kira case, I assumed you would be somewhere close by. Grand-father also gave me a picture of you- that's how I recognized you," she confessed, drawing out the photo as proof. "Well, I can't leave you to fend for yourself. I will take care of you. However, I expect you to earn your keep," Watari decided. "I can cook, clean, and repair fairly well; Grand-father could do very little for the last few years before he died," she offered. "Very well. However, I must warn you; the place I am taking you to requires a great deal of upkeep. It will not be an easy life," he cautioned. A strange, sad little smile graced her pale pink lips. "I watched the only person who ever cared for me in this life slowly die before my eyes. I think I can handle the hardship of housework in exchange for a little companionship," she countered wryly.

Watari blinked, taken aback at the girl's straightforwardness. Then he smiled. She would certainly add an interesting new dimension to L's recently completed fortress. There was far too much focus on intrigue going on in that building, in Watari's opinion. He also considered that perhaps the place needed a bit of a woman's touch. Perhaps there _was_ a good reason to trust this slightly odd, white girl. Motioning her to follow, Watari led the girl back to L's fortress.

As they went, one final question occurred to him: "I assume you are German, yes?" She nodded. "Then why are you so fluent in Japanese? You barely have an accent at all," he marveled. "Grand-father Ehrich always placed great importance upon my education. Whatever he could not teach me himself, he found a tutor for. He especially emphasized languages. I think he knew that I would not remain with his family when he died. He always seemed to think that I was destined for greater adventures," she reminisced sadly. Without thinking, Watari reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder. It amazed him how natural it already seemed: he had met the girl mere minutes ago, and she had, in those few minutes, won his heart. _Yes,_ he thought,_ this 'Maria' may be just what we need in that frigid stronghold._ She turned to face him at his touch. "He may well have been right, Maria," he comforted her, "I'm sure he would be very proud to know that you have come so far." "Thanks, Mr. Watari," she smiled sweetly.

To take her mind off her recent loss, Watari told her of the other inhabitants of her new home all the way back to L's hideout.

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**Well, there you go. For you. Next chapter is going to be quite fun; Maria meets the crew!**

**If you have a spare moment, review! I'd like to know how I'm doing...**

**As ever,**

**Humbly yours,**

**~Terence Waverly**


	3. Chapter 2

**Guess What? I STILL don't own anything!**

**Without further ado...**

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**Chapter 2**

Yagami Light studied his dark, cold surroundings with masked distaste. It was not the dark itself he minded, or even the fact that L, his nemesis, crouched on a swivel chair a few metres away, thoughtfully sucking on a strawberry, absorbed in the screens before him. The thing he really hated about the place was the sterility of it. It had the feel, though not the smell, of a hospital. _No, that's not quite right_, he corrected himself, sliding his gaze from his surroundings in general to L in particular. _Perhaps a sanitarium_, he chuckled wickedly to himself, his features briefly wreathed with almost demonic delight at the thought of L tucked safely away in an insane asylum. _Where he belongs_, he thought derisively. The brilliant social outcast had caused him absolutely nothing but trouble, and although he enjoyed the challenge, Light knew that it was a dangerous game he was playing. The longer L lived, the closer Kira came to discovery and death. Unbidden, the thought briefly flitted through his head that had circumstances been different, they might have been friends. _But then_, he mused,_ had circumstances been different, we never would have met_.

Ryuk watched Light carefully. Part of the fun with this human was his unpredictability, but that made him a constant hazard to be around and a pain to look after. Not that Ryuk was particularly concerned with Light's welfare. He knew better than to get emotionally invested in a human. He had heard the stories. However, he held a casual interest in keeping the kid alive, to put it mildly. Besides a way to satisfy his addiction to apples, the boy showed great entertainment promise and sustenance for some years to come. Ryuk wasn't stupid. He knew that the chances of the Death Note falling into the hands of a person as smart as Light were literally one in millions. He'd probably never have this much fun ever again, and he was going to enjoy it to the fullest. _For once, the future looks bright –for me, anyway,_ he thought wryly as he considered the others in the room, _maybe not so much for them_. For some reason, Ryuk felt a sudden chill run up his spine.

The others in the room were entirely absorbed in the arduous task of attempting to discover the identity of Kira. The air, for many of them, seemed thick with tension. Who knew how many lives were held in the balance? All they knew was this: Kira will not stop until he is caught; perhaps not even until he is dead. Furthermore, they knew that their own lives depended on Kira's capture. Only one of them even suspected the reality: that at this very moment, Kira was lazily studying the walls of their shared prison and planning their destruction.

Into this gloomy atmosphere, Watari arrived, accompanied by his newest orphan. As they entered the room, no one paid any particular attention except for Ryuk. The moment Watari entered, Ryuk felt an overwhelming wave of something akin to nausea. He'd occasionally felt something akin to it before from humans, including Watari, but this was the first instance he could think of that it had been so intense. However, as soon as it had come over him, it ceased. "Everyone, may I have your attention for a moment?" Watari commanded quietly. All the inhabitants of the room except for L turned their gaze to Watari with a sense of relief. L merely threw a casual glance over his shoulder at first. However, upon seeing Watari's young feminine shadow, he did a double-take. Everyone else was similarly in mild shock. Only Light had the presence of mind to note to himself, _She's rather pretty…_ Watari continued. "This is Maria. She will be staying with us and helping me with the housekeeping," he informed the stunned denizens of L's hideout.

Maria stepped forward quietly, but confidently. In her almost-perfect Japanese, she said, "I hope to be of some help to all of you." Then she smiled. Everyone in the room, visible or otherwise, felt an immediate change in the atmosphere. Maria's smile was quite possibly the most genuine any of them had ever seen. Furthermore, the smile transformed her naturally handsome features into something truly radiant. All in all, there was something that connected with one when they encountered her smile. It was almost as if she understood one without one having to tell her anything about oneself. _I was wrong,_ Light corrected himself. _She's not pretty –she's beautiful,_ he finished in awe.

She went through the members of the team, relying on Watari's descriptions to correctly name each of them. When she came to Light, she held out her hand. "You are Yagami Light, then?" she stated. _Let's see what I can get out of her_, Light decided, and gave her a charming smile in return. "I'm glad you're staying; I'd certainly like to get to know you better," he hinted smoothly. She laughed lightly, happily responding to his attentions. "I am pleased to meet you as well," she commented, letting her eyes wander to the apparently empty space above Light, still smiling prettily. Light tracked her gaze. "You certainly have your work cut out for you," he commented as she continued to study her surroundings. "Hmm? Ah, yes," she agreed as she returned her attention to him. As she walked away, he considered that his chances with her were quite good, in his humble opinion.

L had long since returned to his thoughts –and his strawberries. He'd saved the biggest one for last, and now it beckoned him from its loneliness in the bottom of the white bowl. He picked it up and prepared to savor it as he directed his attention to yet another of the screens before him. "And you are the famous L?" He stopped in mid-strawberry. After the first few moments, L had filed Watari's newest pet into the "Things to Deal With Later" area of his scintillating intellect and returned to his work. Annoyed at the intrusion between him and his favorite fruit, he swiveled his chair to face her, strawberry still in hand. He stared at her silently from his chair, knees drawn up to his chin, right hand carelessly dangling the strawberry as it rested on the arm of the chair. She kept a faint smile on her face as she calmly returned his gaze. After several minutes of analyzing her, he finally instructed, "Call me Ryuuzaki. And if you really want to make yourself useful, take this to the kitchen and bring me back some cake." He handed her the empty bowl that had recently held his strawberries. "As you wish, Ryuuzaki," she smiled sweetly in return, accepting the proffered bowl. Then she walked out of the room.

_She's perfect,_ Light rejoiced inwardly. _She's beautiful, certainly smart: even though she's obviously not Japanese –she's even paler than L! –she's mastered our language admirably. And, most importantly, L doesn't like her; just as he doesn't like me._

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**And they're off! Next: Maria's fun first day!**

**Reviews are fun! You should try one sometime! Thanks to everyone who has already!**

**Humbly yours,**

**~Terence Waverly**


	4. Chapter 3

**I still own nothing. NOTHING! That may say something about my work ethic...**

**Sorry about the delay; I've been busy with work.**

**Enjoy!**

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**Chapter 3**

Maria came back with a generous slice of cake about an hour and a half later. "I don't know what kind you liked; there wasn't any made. I decided to play it safe and just make vanilla," she explained, extending the plate to L as he swiveled to face her. He solemnly took it from her. He carefully picked up the fork, cut off a piece, and speared it with the fork. He held it out to her. "You try it first," he commanded. Light, who was looking on, chuckled quietly to himself, or rather, so it seemed, "He _really_ doesn't like her!" _Although poisoning his cake would indeed be a clever way to go after him,_ Light admitted silently. Ryuk answered him: "I'm not sure if I like her myself. Getting tangled up with girls always ends badly in cases like yours, Light. The more you care about other people, the less good the Death Note is going to do you." Light scoffed softly. "Yeah, whatever; I've seen the way you look at her; if you're this bad after knowing her for only a few hours, how much worse is it going to get when you actually _know_ the girl? All I'm saying is, watch your step, Light," Ryuk warned. Light rolled his eyes. _As if she could ever have that much influence over me! It's not like I'm going to fall in __**love**__ with her… Honestly; Ryuk surely worries about me a lot for a shinigami who isn't concerned about humans!_

If Maria was hurt by L's distrust, she did not show it. She leaned forward and carefully bit the cake off the fork in an easy, fluid motion. L studied her closely as she swallowed the morsel. When she showed no signs of discomfort or urgency to leave the room, he turned back to his monitors and sampled the cake himself. Apparently, he approved; he devoured it in minutes and held the plate out to her again, still perusing the screens before him. "More," he ordered. She acquiesced. In fact, she returned with the entire cake, which she offered to the rest of the team as well. Upon tasting it, they mutually agreed that the cake was indeed quite delicious.

As she left to return the dirty dishes to the kitchen, L called after her, "Bring more cake. Also, the fifth and sixth floors need cleaning." The rest of the day was consumed with L constantly giving Maria new tasks to complete. _If he keeps this up, she'll be dead in a week!_ Light marveled. Everyone else was shocked by L's violent dislike of the girl as well. Even after everyone else had retired for the night, she continued to struggle through the myriad chores L had ordered her to finish. However, she never once complained. In fact, she cheerfully worked at every job, however menial.

Once L was alone, Watari approached him. "There is no need to be jealous of her," he admonished. L's eyes slid over to meet Watari's and then sullenly turned away. Watari hesitated; then he placed a light hand on the boy's shoulder. "There's no human being on earth that I care about more than you; you know that, don't you?" Watari probed. Finally, L responded dryly: "I'm not worried about being replaced, Watari. However, I know nothing about her; how can I trust her? I really wish you'd let me know you needed help instead of just going out and picking up someone off the street." "I thoroughly researched the story she gave me after we returned, Ryuuzaki. Her story holds. She was the adopted child of Ehrich Rauch –you remember him, don't you? –and she knew certain things that she couldn't have known if she had not known him personally. I have been testing her all day, and she has passed every time. Furthermore, I trust my instincts. She does not feel evil; she is probably the most innocent person here, in fact," Watari explained. "Also, if she were planning on sabotaging the task force or killing any of us, she could have easily done it by now and be gone by now without a trace. If she were here to do us harm, why would she give us time to research her?" Watari pointed out.

"I've already considered all of this, Watari; I've been testing her as well. You are right on all points. However, she _is_ hiding something: something very important. I won't be able to predict her movements until I uncover that secret. You understand why we must be so cautious, no?" L calmly asked. "You can't possibly think that she's Kira, can you?" Watari countered incredulously. "No; if she were, I doubt we'd have yet realized that those criminal's deaths were murders. She's intelligent, Watari; I can tell that much. After all, she's earned even your trust after only a day! She's easily a match for anyone here, except for me, of course. I believe she will be harder to decipher than even Yagami Light. That's why he's already interested in her. He can't figure her out any more than I can," he informed Watari.

Watari considered this. "You are probably right, Ryuuzaki. She probably is hiding something. But then, everyone does; you don't know everything about me, either. It's wise to learn as much as you can about her; however, keep in mind that some secrets are better left secret. You may learn more than you ever wanted to know. I've often found that to be the case," he finally warned. "Perhaps you might want to try having a little faith in someone, for once. You might find it worth the uncertainty," he suggested carefully. L shrugged. "I doubt it. I always feel better when I know things. I hardly think that she's had enough time on this earth to have experienced anything that could shock me anyway," he admitted candidly. Watari shook his head. "Don't be so sure, Ryuuzaki. Nothing is certain in such matters," he cautioned. Then he left L to his thoughts.

* * *

A few minutes later, Watari showed up on the screen L had been using to monitor Maria's movements. L watched silently as Watari communicated that she had certainly earned her keep for the day. Maria nodded, and the pair walked out, _probably going to show her to a room,_ L surmised. He stalked them via the security system until he learned the location of her new quarters. He nodded in approval at Watari's choice. Her room was a sufficient distance from everyone else that there would time to react, should she leave to 'investigate' anything. He sighed and returned to his work. He couldn't seem to concentrate, though. Even more curiously, his wandering mind always drew his attention back to the view of Maria's closed door. There were cameras in every room, of course, but L drew the line at spying on the girl in her own room. It would be easy enough to search the room while she was gone; there was no need to violate her privacy in such a low fashion.

He forced himself back to the mystery of Kira, _One far more interesting than the mind of that strange girl…_ he told himself. He twitched. _Focus… focus! Think about Kira! You know; that guy who's killing all those people? Yeah, him! Kira… cake._ His eyes immediately returned to Maria's door. _Crap._ Almost against his will, he unfolded himself from his chair. He turned to look at it. _I'm going to sit back down now and pretend this never happened,_ he decided. By the time he finished that thought, he was already in the hallway. _Curse my inquisitiveness!_ He thought, exasperated with himself. He sighed in defeat and allowed himself to continue, knowing that he wouldn't be able to concentrate until he had seen what she was up to. _What will I say if she sees me? Well, of course she's going to see me; I'll have to open her front door! Sometimes I really hate myself._

Despite his thoughts, he crept quietly to the door and pressed his ear against it. Nothing. He blinked. _She couldn't possibly be asleep already… Iit's only been a half hour or so since Watari showed her here. Perhaps she's preparing for the night elsewhere. There isn't a bathroom in there, after all. I didn't see her leave, though! She __**must**__ be inside; I would have noticed if she had –oh…_ Before he could stop himself, his hand grasped the doorknob and gave it a stealthy turn. _…crap._ He sighed internally. _Sometimes, I really think I ought to be locked up,_ he thought wryly as he gently pushed the door open and peered through into the room beyond.

It was a spacious room; all he could see through the crack was a sliver of the faraway nightstand. _Well, that's annoying._ Against his better judgment, he slid the door open farther. Finally, he saw her. She looked as if she'd simply collapsed facedown onto the bed the moment she came in. She was still wearing the clothes she'd had on when he met her; in fact, a cleaning rag was resting on the floor just inches below her limp hand, which was draped over the side of the bed. She looked sort of like a discarded toy, as if a child had tossed her carelessly to the floor in pursuit of some new distraction.

The room also had an aura of strangeness to it; L could feel a disconcerting incongruity about the scene before him, though he couldn't tell what was out of place. He noiselessly approached the bed, noting that she seemed to have brought nothing in the room with her; except for the bed, the entire room looked pristine. _Perhaps that's why it feels so strange._ He cocked his head, imagining the room a little messier and more lived-in. _No; it still doesn't look right._ He continued towards the bed. The feeling of unease grew greater as he drew closer to her motionless form. He kept his eyes on her, watching for any indication of waking. She didn't move a muscle. _That's it!_, his mind crowed in triumph. _She's __**far**__ too still –I feel almost as if I'm the only living creature here! I don't think she's moved at all since I first saw her there –if I didn't know better, I'd say that she were dead… She's __**not**__ dead, is she?_ L flinched slightly at the thought.

If her tale were true, she'd probably had little rest or nourishment for a day or two, at least as she traveled from Germany to Japan. Then he had worked her quite hard all day, providing her no time to recover in either way. Furthermore, her pale skin and beautiful features gave her rather the look of a porcelain doll as she lay there. She looked as if a mere look could break her. The king-sized bed on which she lay seemed to swallow her, even though she was only a few inches shorter than L –his full height, anyway. Be that as it may, she looked incredibly frail; the picture of human mortality: L could almost imagine some dark-robed reaper with the traditional scythe crouched over her, cackling as it stole her life away. He shuddered, but didn't look away. He'd always had a bit of an imagination.

Soon, he was close enough that he could have reached out and touched her. He huddled there, inches from the bed, and studied the girl's ghostly, ashen face. He couldn't even tell if she was breathing or not. He leaned in yet closer, tilting his head to view her visage straight on. _She looks so very still…_ For some reason, he felt his chest tighten a little. Her face, although ethereally beautiful, was also marked with the telltale signs of hardship and pain. Tears had sparkled on those long, dark lashes many more times than could possibly be fair, especially for a girl who was yet so young. A sharp pang that might have been the beginnings of pity for the girl arose in him unbidden. The world-weariness in her face perhaps struck a chord with his own dissatisfaction with his surroundings, he supposed.

He cautiously stretched out a finger towards her, part of his mind idly wondering if she might really be dead. Suddenly, he became aware of another presence in the room. He whipped his head around and searched for his fellow intruder. No one was there. He slowly turned back to Maria, knowing that this feeling could only mean that she was waking. To his surprise, this was not the case, either. She looked exactly the same –except… _She's smiling, _he realized. The corner of her lips was upturned ever so slightly, and even that minimal movement seemed to lighten the cold atmosphere of the room immeasurably. He blinked and pulled his head back off the bed. _How very odd._

Then, she moved. Terror seized him as the hand that he had noticed before groggily lifted, swung over, and came to rest on his head. He froze as her hand gently ruffled his hair, although his eyes strayed to her face, waiting for her eyes to open. They didn't. Instead, she murmured, "_Guter Hund, __König_," and after stroking his head a few times, turned her face away and let her hand drop limply back down, only centimetres from is frozen form. _I can just picture Light's face, should he find out about this_, he grumbled internally. _Maybe I should erase this last couple minutes of footage from the records when I get back. Strange, though that __**that's**__ the first thing I thought about after such an experience. Perhaps I care more about Light's opinion than I thought._ He carefully considered Maria for a few moments. _Well, she doesn't seem to be doing anything important. I should escape before she __**really **__wakes up._

His curiosity stifled, but not abated, he slipped from the room as silently as he had come. After deleting the incriminating records from the mainframe, he settled back into his chair and, for the moment, was finally able to concentrate on catching Kira.

* * *

Elsewhere, Yagami Light stared up at the dark ceiling of his room, arms behind his head. Coincidentally, he was also therefore staring at Ryuk. "You seem troubled," he murmured as quietly as he could. Ryuk was twitching quite noticeably as well as clenching and unclenching his long fingers as he levitated above Light's bed. "Going through withdrawal?" Light ventured in the same tone. It had been some days since he'd been able to feed his near constant companion his favorite food, although he had noticed several apples missing from the kitchen when he'd wandered in a few days ago.

"No…" Ryuk trailed off as his eyes rolled around in their sockets rather disconcertingly. "There's something wrong, Light –very wrong…" he cackled nervously for no apparent reason. Light raised an eyebrow, knowing Ryuk could see him just fine, even in the dark. "Well, maybe part of it's the apples," Ryuk admitted. Light snorted. "But that's not the main thing…" Ryuk continued. Ryuk's right wing spontaneously twisted into a strange and frankly painful-looking position. He spent a few seconds unfurling it while Light waited expectantly. "Happens when I'm nervous sometimes," Ryuk explained while his voice sporadically jumped around to different octaves. Suddenly, he seemed to gain control of himself, and words spilled out of his mouth almost without his consent: "It's that girl!" Both of Light's eyebrows were up now. _Maria?_ He thought incredulously. _He's afraid of __**Maria**__?_

Ryuk shivered, a motion that seemed to radiate from his core and travel out to his wing-tips. His next words came out in only a strangled whisper: "That girl… I think she can see me!"

* * *

**And so the plot thickens.**

**In case you're wondering, Maria said, "Good dog, King," when she scared the crap out of L by moving.**

**Yes, she had a dog. Mostly because I happen to love dogs, even though I'm told I'm rather catlike. Don't worry, I love cats, too.**

**Humbly yours,**

~Terence Waverly


	5. Chapter 4

**I return! Sorry, I've been on holiday. I warn you, a bit of a muddy chapter. Has important background information that you need, though; otherwise I wouldn't have written it. I did put in a fun bit of drama, though.**

**I promise that the next chapter will be less confusing!**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 4**

Light had been hard put to it to find places where he could be sure that L wasn't watching him –especially since the tyrannical head of the Kira investigation rarely sanctioned the idea of anyone besides Watari leaving the building during the day. Therefore, he had been forced to find more clever ways to safely speak to Ryuk. His best concealment was using his cell phone to cover the fact that he was, to all appearances, talking to no one. Although a rather pedestrian method, it had the added benefit of annoying L to no end. Light occasionally wondered what a cell phone had ever done to merit L's seeming intense hatred of the innocent devices. Whatever the case, it was by far the best way to communicate with Ryuk –especially inside the enemy's quarters.

"So what's going on?" Light asked the nervous shinigami who had wakened him several times during the night with nervous mutterings and constant, random movement that probably would've been comical if it were not for the constant racket produced thereby and the fact that Ryuk was disturbing enough when he wasn't contorting into odd positions and racing about like a cat at midnight. At the moment, he was in a position that would not have looked out of place in an advanced yoga class. Once he managed to untangle himself, Ryuk responded, "I know she can at least feel that I'm there…" his left leg wrapped bonelessly around his torso, "but I think she can see me, too. When she met you, she looked straight at me, not past me like everyone else does." He struggled his leg back into position, twitching violently. "What are you going to do?" Light prodded, really wishing that Ryuk would calm down; it was hard to think with the only other denizen of the room contorting into positions that weren't even possible for a human.

"Depends…" Ryuk replied, unfurling his currently twisting wings. "We could be in one of three situations here, judging from the amount of spiritual force coming from that girl. She could be a Holy One –what some people would call a Christian," Ryuk's head snapped sideways suddenly, connecting with his bony shoulder rather hard. While he extracted himself from this position, he explained, "I've sensed the same kind of power coming from Watari on occasion, and I've seen the man _pray_," Ryuk shuddered as he said the word, as if it were a torture to even speak it, "which is why I think she could also be one of Them…" Just then, Ryuk performed a rather impossible backbend. _Well, that couldn't be too bad, now could it? I can handle a mere ideologue,_ thought Light. Out loud, he said, "I understandyour point completely."

Once Ryuk had sufficiently disentangled himself, he continued. "The other two options are simple, really: she could be possessed by a demon, or…" Ryuk's contortions suddenly ceased, but he began to tremble intensely. For a few minutes, he seemed to be struggling to voice the last option with little success. A strange pall that Light had never seen before was cast over Ryuk's grisly features. For a split-second, Light almost thought he could see a glimpse of a frightened human within the visage of his sometime compatriot. Light waited patiently. _He must be truly afraid of this last option…_ he mused, almost pitying the giant monster before him. "Yes…?" he gently urged, directing his eyes away from Ryuk in order to maintain the illusion of a phone conversation.

"She… could be… protected by an angel," Ryuk croaked. _He's afraid of… an __**angel**__? _Light nearly burst out laughing. "Really?" he smirked, his amusement leaking into his voice. Ryuk did not appreciate being mocked. "You have _no_ idea how much trouble such a thing could cause!" he roared, barely restraining himself from taking hold of Light and shaking him. "Any one of these three is at least a match for me, you idiot!" he continued to rage. "Even being _near_ that much power causes me trouble! Do you think I've been wrapping myself up in a ball all day for _FUN_?" he screeched, waving his arms in a fashion that would have been comical, had it been performed by anyone less deadly.

Light sighed. _He's a __**shinigami**__, for heaven's sake! Obviously, such beings exist, since he's mentioned them, but angels? Demons? They certainly can't have that much power over him; what is he so afraid of?_ "Well then, what are you up against?" he redirected. Ryuk calmed slightly. "Really, the best outcome would be if she were possessed," he stated rather bluntly. Light was a little taken aback. _One would think that such a thing would be the __**worst**__ option –I've never dealt with a demon before. Although, I suppose that I haven't had much experience with the other two possibilities, either._ Ryuk continued: "If a demon is controlling her, he's here for the fun. He may even help out a little; spread some havoc and such. The only real danger comes from the fact that demons –even though they are fallen –still retain some of their angelic powers. The Death Note does not affect them or the ones they control. Also, they can affect not only the mind and soul, but also the body. If that girl's demon-possessed, she probably doesn't even know she exists, much less that she's here. Regardless, if it's a demon we're facing, he'll leave us alone as long as you're Kira."

"Where we start to run into trouble is if she's one of the Holy Ones. If she can see me, you can bet that she knows what I'm here for. With power that great, she could seriously handicap us or even destroy the Death Note, depending on whether or not she calls for backup," Ryuk explained. "Meaning…?" Light prompted. "Meaning she calls down a skyful of option number three," Ryuk clarified nervously. "Perhaps I haven't made this clear: there's a certain way the spiritual world works. At the bottom, there's humans. Most of them are so spiritually dull that their lives are pointless, as far as I'm concerned. It _does_ make you easy prey, except for the occasional bright ones –like you and L, for instance. Anyway, next comes the shinigami. We have control over human death, basically. We occasionally get a little carried away, at which point He Who Shall Not Be Named –eh, you might call Him 'God', I suppose –anyway, _He_ might send a horde of demons or angels after us in one way or another to settle us down. Now, we get to demons. Like I said before, they've got control of the human mind, soul, and body. Obviously, this means that they can kill you humans, too. They can't kill shinigami, but they can –and do –torture them, on occasion, and then we rather wish the demons _could_ kill us, if you catch my meaning. Anyway, shinigami are basically helpless before them, as are any humans who aren't Holy Ones. Next up the ladder are the angels. Really, they have the same abilities as demons, they just use them differently. They also happen to have a _whole_ lot more power at their disposal. Demons only have Lucifer, Prince of the Air, to back them up; the angels …they have He Who Shall Not Be Named. Of course, He Himself is over all. You can well imagine why the rest of us are so curious about humans, then –even though you're so weak, He offers you alone His salvation and protection even though, quite honestly, you're worthless," Ryuk finished honestly.

"I think I understand," Light murmured, beginning to feel slightly uneasy. "Continue," he commanded quietly. "Well, the last option is that she's being guarded by an angel," Ryuk grimaced. "If that's the case, there's only one reason that girl is here: to stop us. You may think that playing at being the Almighty is fun, but He doesn't take kindly to imitators. You've got your reasons, I know, and _I'm_ not complaining, but you've kind of lined yourself up for the Righteous Anger if ever a man has," Ryuk confided. "Where does that leave us?" asked Light, his unease beginning to metamorphose into something more ominous. "It means, Boy, that we're done for. If an angel is here to stop us, I'll –at the very least –be sent back upstairs, if not erased from existence by, well, you know. You'll end up caught. There's no way around that. If that girl doesn't already know that you're Kira, it won't be long before she figures it out. Plus, she's smart, like you. You'd better watch yourself, Light," he cautioned, but Light had already 'hung up' and was busy pacing the floor and planning.

* * *

If anything, the events of the previous night had made L less willing to trust Maria. He wasn't sure why, but there seemed to be something vaguely sinister about her. He knew that part of the reason he wasn't willing to trust her was that he hadn't figured her out. _At least,_ he consoled his offended morals,_ I'm humble enough to admit that the real reason I don't like her right now is that I'm not sharp enough to understand her._ His morals were not satisfied. Therefore, he ordered her to clean a couple more floors of his headquarters just to get her out of his immediate vicinity. He supposed that was rather cowardly, but social bravery had never been one of his strong points.

Sadly, this didn't help with the biggest problem he had with her. She possessed a strange kind of magnetism for him, again partly because she was so inexplicable to him. This resulted in a rather annoying tendency on his part. He had to keep a camera trained on her, just in case she was up to anything suspicious, but this also meant that she was always present on at least one of his many consoles. Wherever she was, there his eyes would drift. He wasted hours watching her dust, vacuum, polish, and clean when he should have had his mind focused on Kira. He could channel his energies in the direction of the Kira case for a few minutes, at most, before he was back to puzzling over the strange girl who was currently mopping the floor.

There _was_ something different about her today, though. Yesterday, she had seemed a healthy –though a little thin –teenage girl. She had been less animated today, and her skin had a decidedly grey tinge to it. Her smiles were still as genuine; she still worked just as hard –but she seemed rather as if the energy had been drained out of her overnight. L's morals once again mounted an attack, reminding him that he'd worked her quite hard yesterday, but he shoved them aside in order to redirect his mind back to Kira.

Really, it was her situation that made him most suspicious. Why would she come all the way from Germany to Japan? The orphanage was much closer, and they certainly would have accepted her, even if only for a short time. Why would she need to come _here_?

He was startled by a sudden touch on his shoulder. "Are you ever going to let that girl eat? It's well past 1.00," Light admonished. L blinked at him owlishly. "Why are you so concerned about her? Isn't that Misa-girl your girlfriend?" L probed quietly. "With Misa, one really doesn't have a choice whether one likes her or not," Light answered dryly, "I'm just, shall we say, keeping my options open. –Not that I would need to be interested in Maria in order to feel concern for her welfare! She's been deathly pale all morning, Ryuuzaki," Light reproved. "She's white, Yagami. Of course she's pale," L mumbled uncomfortably. Light rolled his eyes expressively. _Yes, I can use this situation to my advantage, regardless of what I'm up against,_ he thought smugly. "Well, _you_ may be willing to watch the poor girl starve, but _I_ am _not_," he announced, with just the right amount of righteous indignation seeping into his otherwise calm voice. L twitched. _I've got him. Perfect._ Light strode purposefully out of the room, unable to keep the triumphant smirk off his face.

A few minutes later, L watched as Light appeared on his console, wandering through the hideout in search of Maria. Upon finding her, he approached her and warmly placed an arm around her shoulder as he guided her toward the kitchen, smiling kindly all the while. Maria returned his affectionate gaze with a smile of her own and gladly accepted the support of his strong frame as he led her from the room. They appeared as familiar friends, even though they had only known each other for less than a day. L refused to admit that Light's familiar interactions with Maria had anything to do with the twinge of something akin to jealousy currently settling in his chest.

* * *

**Ah, yes... Things will get interesting.**

**Special note to Ithilelda: I shall show you soon what happens when Maria gets tired of L's demanding ways. I hope you enjoy it!**

**Humbly yours,**

**~Terence Waverly**


	6. Chapter 5

**I'm back!**

**I do hope that you all have missed me.**

**Ithilelda, please don't hate me; I promise that Maria will let L have it in the next chapter!**

**Chapter 5**

Upon reaching the kitchen, Light proceeded to play the perfect gentleman. He refused to let her do anything except sit in the chair that he had pulled out for her. This had the double purpose of emphasizing his concern for her _and_ showing off his cooking skills which, marginal as they were, had the advantage over most male's. After seating her with a drink, he took up a spatula and a dramatic pose and asked her, "What shall be your pleasure, then?" He accompanied the statement with a devastating smile that would have had any other girl he knew swooning. Maria only smiled back sweetly and answered, "You really don't have to go to all this trouble; I'll just make myself a sandwich or something."

She attempted to rise from the chair, but Light gently pushed her back down. "Now, now; none of that. You need some time to rest! When I came to get you, you looked as pale as a ghost," he reproved, waving the spatula reproachfully. "I'll always be pale, compared to what you're used to. I'm German, after all," she rebutted. "You're pale even for a Caucasian," he countered. A glint of mischief rose in Maria's eyes. "Do you start all your conversations with women by telling them that they look rather like they're at death's door?" she queried. _Is she flirting with me?_ Light wondered. For some reason, the idea was far more satisfying than it ought to have been. _She's the means to an end,_ he reminded himself. Outwardly, he gave her a dashing smile and replied smoothly, "Only the pretty ones." Maria threw her head back and began to laugh quite adorably. As Light watched her, a curious feeling washed over him: it felt rather as if someone had wrapped a hand around his heart and was squeezing it ever so slightly. _How can she be so frail, and yet have such power?_ he wondered to himself.

* * *

He wasn't the only one that was feeling the effects of their conversation. L had been following them on the surveillance system all the way to the kitchen. Although he could not hear their conversation without alerting everyone else in the room to the fact that he was spying on the pair, the easy manner in which they conversed was, to say the least, irritating to L. It irked L that Light should be better at anything than he. It was natural male antagonism, L supposed, but that fact didn't make it any easier to watch Light expertly sweep Maria off her feet with his charming manners.

The most annoying part was that Light probably now knew more about Maria than L did. Once again, L's admittedly childish nature was unsettled by the fact that _anyone_ knew more about something than he did. He absently fiddled with the frayed cuff of his blue jeans as the pair journeyed towards their destination. _What is he learning?_ L raved inwardly. His unoccupied hand drifted up to his mouth, and he began to play with his lower lip, as was his custom when concentrating. _What makes her so mesmerizing?_ he marveled. _Both of us are fascinated by her, and she hasn't had to raise a finger to make it happen!_ He watched as they traded apparently witty sallies in the kitchen. _They do look rather well together, I must admit,_ he conceded. She seemed to provide a sort of foil for Light's occasional arrogance –instead of holding him in awe, as most did, she laughed at him and teased him. _Perhaps_, L thought, _that is what draws him to her,_ as he noted the same puzzlement he felt reflected in Light's eyes.

* * *

"Oh, come now, don't you have a better comeback than that?" she egged, once she stopped laughing. "What can I say; you leave me speechless," Light countered smoothly, backing up and spreading his arms wide. The spatula extended his reach into some cooking utensils hanging over the stove and sent several clattering to the floor. "Ah, see what you made me do!" he playfully accused. "Give me that before you damage something important," Maria smiled, rising. "Like what?" he bantered. "Like _you_, for one," she responded, crossing the floor towards him, eyes sparkling. He prepared to elude her, but suddenly, her face drained of all color, and she collapsed. Light dropped the spatula and barely managed to catch her before she hit the floor.

* * *

L lurched forward in alarm as Maria fell. _What happened?_ One moment, she was fine –albeit a little pale – and the next, she was lying there oblivious, cradled in Light's arms. _What to do… I can't react until Light calls; otherwise, the others will realize that I've been spying on them. –But what if she needs medical attention? Curse my pride! I'm such a fool!_ he berated himself. However, he took no action; years of an introvert's misanthropy kept him from raising the alarm. _If she dies, does this make me a murderer?_ he wondered almost absently, sliding his finger further into his mouth.

* * *

"Maria… Maria!" Light shouted at the girl who lay motionless in his arms. Hands trembling slightly, he felt for a pulse. _Nothing… No, wait –it's there; it's just very faint._ He breathed a sigh of relief. _However, I need to find out what's wrong with her,_ he reminded himself. He began to check for the cause, but stopped abruptly. _I need to let the others know; she might need an ambulance._ He started to lay her down carefully, but found that he didn't want to. No matter the danger, something inside him was absolutely content with the idea of sitting on that kitchen floor in the midst of cutlery and holding her in his arms for eternity, or at least as long as possible. There was no feeling of urgency; it was as if each moment of time were already a fond memory.

* * *

_What is he __**doing**__?_ L railed inwardly. _Why isn't he calling for help –or __**something**__!_ His eyes twitched back and forth frantically from the back of Light's head to Maria's still, pale features. He clenched his teeth in frustration. _Light, __**do**__ something!_

* * *

Light let his eyes wander aimlessly over the girl. _She really is beautiful,_ he thought. _No matter what she's doing, it rather seems as if she's always been doing it –when I watched her laugh, I couldn't imagine her doing anything but laughing her entire life… But now, it's as if she's been lying here forever, and will for all eternity._ He smiled languidly. _What an odd thought._ He had the sudden urge to kiss her. For reasons unknown to him, it seemed really to be the only thing to do. He leaned in over her slowly, sliding his hand down her back and prolonging his anticipation into an exquisite sensation that was almost pain.

* * *

L's eyes were fastened to the figures on the screen. _What is he…? He's not going to…? Well, this is unexpected._ His mind was alone in its calm reaction. L's teeth tightened even more, and his whole body became rigid as Light drew his face closer to Maria's.

* * *

As Light's lips touched Maria's, she stirred, brushing hers against Light's as she turned her head towards his body. He gasped slightly at the unknowing caress and drew back slightly, coming back to himself. Her eyes opened slowly, and she gazed up at him incoherently. Light could feel the magnetism of her gaze drawing him in even as she seemed to be struggling to maintain a grasp on consciousness.

Suddenly, her eyes snapped into focus and shone with a clarity that took his breath away. _A man could lose himself in those eyes,_ he marveled. "What happened?" she asked softly, passing her gaze over him before locking it with his. Light heard the slightest hint of a foreign accent in her words. "You fainted," he murmured in return. "Oh?" she accepted. She didn't seem particularly worried either by this statement or Light's rather compromising position over her. Light felt his reason slipping again as he stared into her crystal-gray eyes, and he closed in again. "You had me quite worried," he chided as he drew closer. "I'm sorry," she whispered against his lips.

Once again, he felt his self-control flash back into existence. He sat up and looked away, blushing faintly. "Forgive me; I shouldn't have taken advantage of you…" he apologized. Maria smiled gently. "It's all right," she assured him quietly. She reached a hand up and gently turned his head back toward her, running a finger along his jaw line before letting her hand drop again; even such a simple act seemed to sap her energy considerably. His breath hitched again as he regarded her frailty, but he managed to discipline himself enough to keep from overstepping his bounds yet again. She smiled sweetly. "You are a good man," she told him, although her voice carried a strange note in it that he couldn't quite understand. _Perhaps it's her accent again_, he told himself.

Light did not know how long they continued to gaze into each other's eyes, but eventually, Maria spoke. "Could you help me up, please?" she asked softly. Light's charisma began to return. "I'm not sure that I should: look what happened last time," he smiled wryly. "Well, we can't stay on the kitchen floor forever, you know. You're going to get hungry sooner or later," she teased, poking his stomach lightly. "I'll carry you," he informed her. She opened her mouth to protest, but he interrupted her: "I'm taking you straight to your room; then we're going to get you something to eat! That's probably why you fainted, you know." She smiled wryly. "Perhaps," she answered, amused. "However, if I want to get to your room, I'm afraid that I'll have to trouble you for directions," he admitted. Her smile grew wider. "That's the first time I've ever heard a man ask for directions!" she teased. "Oh, hush," he replied, equally amused.

Once he had deposited her in her room, he headed back to the kitchen to prepare her a meal. As he went, he considered the hold Maria seemed to have over him –although she did seem to be unconscious of it. He shook his head gently, amazed. _I never knew that a siren's song could be silent_, he mused.

* * *

L watched these events helplessly, his eyes held captive by the screen. His mind skittered around like a crazed squirrel, and his entire body was rigid as he concentrated solely upon the interactions of the two teenagers. When Light leaned in a second time, though, his brain sent forth only one message: _**NO!**_ He relaxed slightly when, as if in response to his mental scream, Light moved out of his intimate position with the girl. He felt an odd twisting sensation in his chest when Maria reached out to touch Light's face, but as she continued to talk, his concentration lessened, and he calmed to a state of mild irritation. As this occurred, he became aware of a throbbing pain in his hand that seemed to originate in his index finger. He also noticed a strange, metallic taste in his mouth. He took his finger out of his mouth and studied it. His finger was bleeding freely from cuts that his own teeth had inflicted as he had watched Light and Maria.

* * *

**Yes, I was teasing you all a little with the Light/Maria action. It was to make a point about Maria rather than to make a point about their relationship.**

**Plus, it's quite fun to torture L like that, don't you think?**

**Also, in case you're wondering, yes, Maria fainted for a reason; it wasn't just an excuse to put Light and Maria in a compromising situation. Although it was rather fun. As I said, I enjoy torturing Light and L a little now and again. I think things would have turned out much differently had people they knew poked fun at them occasionally.**

**Anyway, next chapter: Maria vs. L!**

**Humbly yours,**

**~Terence Waverly**


	7. Chapter 6

**I return! I also come bearing gifts: the promised L/Maria Clash: Part 1!**

**Yes, and the repercussions, as it were, will be in Chapter 7.**

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**Chapter 6**

Maria seemed to have recovered by the following morning. She continued to work long and hard for L over the next few days, even as his requests became more difficult –or even slightly dangerous. His latest addition to her ever-growing list of chores was to clean the support beams above the main room –a daunting task, to say the least. However, except providing the right equipment, L refused to let anyone help her. However, the chances of her beginning the job anytime soon were slim, at best; L had purposely kept her especially busy since 'the Light incident', as he referred to it in his mind.

He continued to be frustrated in his analyses of her; whenever he thought he had something, she would completely contradict his assumptions and leave him to begin all over again. It was a blow to his pride, and he was beginning to lose patience both with her and himself. _What am I missing?_ he often berated himself. _How can such a simple creature pose such a problem to my capabilities? I should know her every thought by now!_

Even more annoying was the way that Light had begun to act around her. While before there had been acceptance, even a sort of filial bond, with her, now there was a much more focused attention –a fascination, a desire. _And considering his actions in the kitchen, I think I can guess the nature of that desire,_ L mused. _It's really not fair; isn't one girl enough for him?_ L pouted slightly. _He already has a girl to play with, why can't he leave this one to me?_ He already knew why, of course. While Misa had a cute, pop-star charm, there was something far deeper and more exciting to be found beneath the mask that Maria kept over her heart. _He can't resist her –and I can't blame him,_ he realized with slight chagrin.

"Excuse me," came a polite voice from over his shoulder. He started a little and turned to face the interloper: Maria. "Tomorrow is Sunday, and Mr. Watari said that he would be going to a church nearby. I am going with him. I miss going to church with my family very much, and I think that going to services again would make me feel better. Mr. Watari told me to let you know beforehand, so you wouldn't be surprised," she finished respectfully.

_This is it!_ L thought. _This is when she'll make her move. She thinks that just because a week has gone by, I'm just going to let her wander wherever she pleases? Hardly. She must have __**no**__ chance to contact anyone outside this building until I know what to make of her._ Out loud, he replied, succinctly, "No." Her eyes snapped to his suddenly. _Ah, so it meant that much to you, did it? Well, good. That means you definitely had greater plans for your time outside than just a morning sitting in church!_ Then she tilted her head slightly and replied evenly, but without rancour, "I don't recall asking for permission." "If you had, I wouldn't have given it," L fired back readily. An amused tint crept into her eyes. "Let me rephrase: I don't recall _needing_ your permission," she parried calmly. "You live under my roof; as long as you wish this to continue, you will obey me," L commanded. "I am a Christian; part of my faith requires that I be in fellowship with other Christians regularly –would you deny me the right to practice my faith freely?" she queried, raising an eyebrow at his words and tone.

"I do not share your faith –in fact, why Watari _does_ is beyond me. Do you want me to list the reasons that any god, much less _yours_, cannot exist? It would take years! There is no tangible evidence, not one shred of proof –your so-called 'faith', your 'God': they are nothing more than a feeble-minded crutch for those who cannot think for themselves! Watari is free to do what he wishes –I owe him too much to treat him otherwise –but to you, I show no such leniency," he defied. She sighed. "I have better things to do than argue with someone who is obviously not open to my beliefs; however, I can't help but think that you are treating me unfairly. I have worked hard for you, and you have no right to try to dictate what I should believe, neither could you if you tried; I have endured crueler torture than that which you can inflict," she countered, a bit of steel beginning to shine through her weary voice.

L met her gaze. _Interesting._ "It's not use, arguing with me. I have made my decision," he informed her coolly. She blinked, seemingly disappointed. "Could I go next week, then?" she asked sweetly. "You will not leave this building until I tell you that you can –and that may be never," L replied triumphantly, thrilled with his victory. He turned back to his console, feeling a bit better than he had in some time, and waited for her to walk away so he could indulge in a small smile. However, she did not leave. L continued to wait. She still made no move to go. L began to grow uneasy; he could feel Maria's eyes on him. Finally, he tried dismissing her verbally. "Get back to work," he commanded.

As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt a strange atmosphere descend upon the room like a thunderclap. His body felt suddenly heavy, as if he were moving through some media far thicker than air. Almost against his will, he slowly turned his chair back around to face Maria. Her eyes burned with an inner fire that was so intense that he could barely believe that she was the same girl who had collapsed in the kitchen only a few days earlier. Her visage was dark, her eyes narrowed, and her lips contorted in the beginnings of a snarl. L bravely endured that coruscating gaze, waiting for her severe mood to pass. Instead, it intensified. The very room seemed to become darker, as if she were sucking the light out of their surroundings with her anger.

Finally, she spoke, her voice deepened by a tone he had never heard in it before. "Enough," she yelled. "I have worked hard for you ever since the moment I arrived. I have completed every task without a single note of complaint, without a single word of thanks as a reward. I have required nothing of you except a bed to sleep in and enough food to keep body and soul together. And for this, I am met with scorn, ridicule, and tyrannical robbery of my freedom. But I am done with this! I have had enough! You may work my body into the ground; you may crush my spirit with your callous and ungrateful ways; but my soul you can not have! _That_ is not yours to take," she ranted.

L felt the weight of her accusations: all were true. He had treated her abominably by anyone's standards; but here was his chance to repent –to begin to set things right again. _No! She will __**not**__ command me! __**I**__ am the one in control; not her!_ He set his jaw resolutely. "_No_," he managed to whisper as he clutched the arms of his chair for support.

Then, just as suddenly as it had come, the weight vanished from the room and the light returned. All that was left of the powerful being that had so lately stood before him was the calm beauty that he had come to know as Maria. She seemed tired, frail, and –sad? There was an unmistakable but inexplicable tinge of sadness about her. "Enough," she said again, distantly, her eyes slightly unfocused. Then, they sharpened onto L again. "The Lord judge between me and thee," she stated wearily. Then, after a mysterious hesitation, she slowly raised her hand and pointed at him. "The Lord rebuke you," she intoned with a hint of something that L couldn't quite place. Then, lowering her arm, she turned and calmly exited the room, leaving him entirely alone in it. As she did, he finally recognized that tone in her voice that had escaped him: pity.

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**Ah, yes, all is not well.**

**However, as I mentioned before, the real fun -at least from my perspective, begins in Chapter 7!**

**Until then, I remain -**

**Humbly yours,**

**~Terence Waverly**


	8. Chapter 7

**As promised, the fallout of the fight! Just to warn you, this chapter does start to include things that are a bit more heavy on the supernatural.**

**However, I did warn you both in the description and with the general tenor of the story**

**So, if you haven't figured it out by now that this story includes a definite tendency towards the weird, (And I mean that more in the traditional sense of the word than the connotation...) well, I'm afraid that's your own fault.**

**Regardless, I hope you enjoy this chapter; I certainly did!**

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**Chapter 7**

The room felt different after she left, L noticed, bemused. However, his mind was clearer than it had been in some time, so he ignored the atmosphere in favor of his monumental task: catching Kira. Occasionally, he would check up on Maria, but the annoying magnetism had, for the time being, lessened considerably. That night, he went to bed satisfied; a good day's work behind him and the opportunity to collect vital information on Maria before him. He knew one thing for certain: the next day held some great revelation –something vitally important to understanding Maria's actions, objectives, and motives. He sighed contentedly and drifted off to sleep.

That's where it began: in his dreams. L had never dreamt very much; he kept his mind active enough during the day that it seemed to welcome the chance to recover during the night. Tonight, though, was a grand exception. Almost as soon as he closed his eyes, he was barraged with strange, horrible nightmares: everything from leering faces and disturbing laughter to a seeming tour of all the evils he had ever seen –only now painted in the twisted, lurid light of dreaming, which invested them with a unique sort of horror. He awoke perhaps a hundred times that night, tossing and turning, covered with the cold sweat that accompanies such midnight vigils. He was exhausted, fearing the tricks his mind would play on him as his gritty eyes played about the dark room; but fearing almost more the visions he knew awaited him should he dare close his eyes. _What is happening to me?_ he screamed silently as the darkness and evil gnawed away at his sanity.

Finally, the morning came. L greeted it with a mixture of relief and fatigue. His strained mind raced, but his comprehension seemed to move in slow motion, resulting in a tumultuous cacophony of thoughts, ideas, and fears to thunder constantly against his sleep-deprived consciousness. He numbly changed into his outfit for the day and stumbled down to his desk. He dimly noted that the sky outside his window was grey and heavily overcast. Somewhere in his jumbled thoughts, he noted that it would probably rain soon.

Watari had already left for church, and Maria had obediently remained behind, working as instructed. Somehow, this thought gave him no pleasure, as it had just the day before. Just before he sat down, he though he saw something move out of the corner of his eye. He spun around, quick as lightning, to face the intruder, but there was nothing there. He turned back to his monitors to note that Maria was still several floors above him. This was so. As he peered closer at her small image, a ghoulish face flashed before his eyes –one of his nighttime visitors, in fact. He started visibly and backed away, but the face was already gone. _Just my brain playing tricks_, he told himself. It had been so vivid, though: the black, bulbous eyes, pasty skin, and garish grin lined with sharklike teeth –and that face had been _laughing_ at him with that hideous visage. The mocking light in those abyss-black eyes had been unmistakeable. L shuddered, but will himself to sit down.

Once again, L found himself unable to concentrate, although this time, thoughts of Maria had nothing to do with it. His sleep-addled wits could barely keep his eyes focused, much less tackle the mysteries of Kira. He willed himself to stay awake, though. He feared what might lie waiting in his dreams. His eyes dragged slowly up to the room where Maria was cleaning. She was gone! _What? Where is she? This is important; so very important –but I can't think… -So tired – I have to __**think!**_

Maria wended her way carelessly up the stairs that led to the roof. A strange wild smile had transformed her features and given

* * *

them a childish, elfin cast. She was no longer wearing her traditional long-sleeved shirt and pants –she had cast them aside in favor of a knee-length white sundress with a square neckline and inch-thick shoulder straps. Underneath her dress, she wore a pair of jeans rolled up to the knee so they just cleared the hem of her dress. Her feet and arms were bare, and she seemed to glow slightly in the dark stairwell, courtesy of the windows, which were few and far between. Her waist-length hair waved freely as she moved, loosed from its habitually bonds. She looked the picture of a carefree child on a summer's day as she waltzed lightly upward, arms outstretched as if she were balancing on the edge of a sidewalk.

However, the illusion was shattered as she passed a window. Its grey light revealed hundreds of scars slashed across her body, her arms and legs in particular. They spoke of years of experience that a child could not possibly endure. Oddly, though, the numerous hairline scars did not decrease her beauty; somehow, they seemed to fit, to complete it. The spidery tendrils on her death-pale skin framed her figure in a perfect paradox: undiminishing beauty against excruciating pain.

Her sparkling grey eyes turned to observe the gloomy world outside. She laughed softly, the sound both anciently mature and innocently juvenile. She leaned against the window-ledge and tapped her finger against the glass in time as she chanted in English, with a sing-song American accent, "It's raining; it's pouring; the old man is snoring…"

* * *

L could feel himself losing the battle against his need for sleep. He managed to jerk himself awake before he completely nodded off, but it took nearly all his energy. _Where is she?_ he interrogated his tired brain as he forced himself to study the monitors before him with bleary eyes. Childish laughter reached his ears, echoing as if from the distant past. He whipped around again in his chair to study the empty room behind him. His fingers dug into the chair as uneasiness swept over him for no apparent reason. He swallowed hard, his dry mouth doing little to ease his suddenly parched throat. _It's my imagination,_ he reiterated firmly as he could and turned back to his work. The laugh came again, closer this time. L froze. He could feel someone –some_thing's_ eyes on him. With trembling hands, he slowly turned his chair to face the room again. Standing a few feet from Yagami Light's desk was a spectral figure: a small, brown-haired girl wearing a white sundress, with an innocent, elfin smile on her face.

* * *

Maria thrust the thick, heavy door to the roof open as if it weighed no more than a feather. She lazily waltzed through, leaving it to slam shut hard behind her. Then her demeanor changed. Her features grew serious, her manner grave; her hands fell quietly to her sides. She strode slowly but purposefully to the centre of the rooftop, her hair barely moving in the brooding calm before the storm. Then she raised her eyes and open hands heavenward. The world was silent, waiting. She spoke solemnly, "Lord, have mercy upon us." Again, silence. "Save us from evil," she called, closing her eyes in earnestness. After a final pause, "I worship you… and you alone," she whispered, reopening her eyes.

Suddenly, the clouds broke. A deluge of water pelted from the sky as if every floodgate in heaven had been opened. Maria's face broke into a radiant smile, and she closed her eyes again, savouring the rain on her upturned face. She spun around in a circle, causing her dress to flare out around her in a wave of white fabric. Then she laughed again, this time with joy evident in her tone, and began to dance.

* * *

L rubbed his eyes, trying to blot the pale spectre from his vision. When he had done, though, she remained. Her head cocked impishly to one side as he stared at her in disbelief. _I must be dreaming,_ he decided. _Well, let's see what my brain is trying to tell me, then._ The child laughed again, and began to caper around the room, passing through tables, chairs, and other furniture as if they were not there. However, he could always see her in entirety –it seemed rather that the objects she entered became less real, instead of showing _her_ to be less than real. As he watched her, the weight of fear seemed to lift from L's heart. _Oh, to be as happy and carefree as she,_ he longed. The girl stopped as he thought this, as if she could hear his inner musings. Her smile broadened, and she beckoned to him, holding her hand out freely, shadowed eyes trusting and open. L rose without thinking, and crossed the room towards her, unable to stop even if he had wanted to. As he reached her, he stretched out his large, long-fingered hand to take her tiny one.

* * *

Maria's dance was a strange, fluid mixture of everything from classical ballet to aerial gymnastics. Every move, though, was imbued with an unearthly grace, perfect poise, and genuine adoration. She was dancing for one person, and one alone. The beauty of her movement would have brought her the adulation of millions, were she a performer, but that was not her goal. Even though the rain poured down in torrents, she danced on.

* * *

As L touched the girl's fingers, she disappeared as if she were smoke blown away by a gust of wind. L fruitlessly searched the room for her, but found nothing. He sighed, disappointed, and settled back into his chair. He tried to wake up, but none of his usual tricks worked. _Maybe it's because I'm already awake_… He slapped the idle thought down as quickly as he could with his impaired mental faculties. _Don't be ridiculous! Phantom females?_

**We're not phantoms, Lawliet…** spoke a voice to his left. L gasped and whipped his head in the direction of the sound. The voice chuckled, a low, disturbing noise. **Looking for something?** it mocked. _**Not that you could find anything even if you looked for it,**_came another voice from his right. **True,** agreed the first, **No matter what you try, no matter how much you 'succeed', you'll always be a **_**failure**_. The last word echoed in L's head like a gunshot. His entire life, he had feared that word: failure. Regardless of his talents, his skill, he had always felt failure hounding him, only one step behind, no matter what he did or where he ran. _**Sure, you've got a mind, and you know how to use it,**_ started the second voice, **But what do you have that matters? What do you have that will **_**last**_**?** challenged the first. _**Nothing**_, answered the second. _**No friends… **_**No family… **_**No one who will care when you die.**_** You are alone. **_**No one loves you.**_** Why even bother living? **_**Everyone hates you.**_** Outcast- **_**Meddler- **_**Selfish child- **_**Heartless tyrant-**_** Cruel- **_**Pointless-**_** Inadequate- **_**Isolated- **_**Failure- **_**Failure- **_**FAILURE- **_**FAILURE!**_

As the voices berated him, L sank further and further into the chair, curling up into the smallest form he could, squeezing his eyes shut and stopping his ears, trying to block them out; but they were inside his head as well as without. A sob rose from him as their cutting words penetrated to his heart. _It's true,_ he wailed within, _it's all __**true**__! It's true, and it is unbearable!_ His chest felt as if it would split open from the pain; his head rang with their torments; and he was powerless to stop them. Images of the ones he had failed to save poured into his mind in an unstoppable deluge, mixed with that infernal Face, as well as other hideously distorted and demonic visages.

_I have to get out of here_, he thought frantically. _I can't take this much longer! I have to get out of the building –where the wind can drown out these awful voices… -the roof!_ His destination decided, he took a deep breath, steeling himself for the visions he feared he would see when he opened his eyes; but open them he did. The entire room was swarming with shadowy creatures that seemed to drip inky blackness in their wake. They dangled from the rafters; slid along the walls; peered out from the bookshelves with yellow, cat-pupiled eyes. They cackled and jeered at him as he struggled out of his chair, so dazed and weary that he nearly fell on his face. **You can't escape us!** the first voice crowed triumphantly. _**Yes, you're **__**ours**__**, now,**_ the second added smugly.

L lifted his eyes to the door, his escape. His heart lifted, too, as he saw standing there the spectral child from before. Her face was grave now, but the mere sight of her gave him the strength he needed to make a headlong rush for the door and into the hallway.

* * *

The rain continued, but after a time, Maria slowed; then gracefully stopped. Her features became solemn again. She cocked her head slightly, as if listening. A few moments passed before she straightened again. Another pause; longer this time. Then, softly, she began to sing. The pure, sweet tones that issued from within her seemed to bring life even to the desolate, barren rooftop. Although the downpour did not slacken, the air seemed to vibrate with the life it brought to the world, as if the entire world was preparing for a sudden Spring. The words she sang were indistinguishable because of the deluge, but the reverence with which she sang them gave evidence to their venerable origin. They were old words; words that held great power. As she sang, she lifted her hands again, as if reaching out to the world around her in encouragement.

* * *

The girl had disappeared again by the time he reached the doorway. As he loped down the hall towards the stairs, though, he thought he glimpsed a flash of white fabric disappearing through the entrance to them. The creatures and the voices followed, hard at his heels, jeering, taunting, abusing. He burst through the next door and onto the stair landing. He searched wildly for the child –thought he heard the echo of her laughter from the flight above. He chased it as fast as his leaden feet would allow and was rewarded by the sight of a pale face with brown hair considering him solemnly from a few floors up. He staggered ever upwards, the child leading him closer and closer to the rooftop as if to encourage him.

The voices were becoming angry with him; they made wilder and wilder claims, brought up past failures that he had long since forgotten; they seemed to want to keep him from going farther. **Give up!** screamed the first. _**Nothing can save you; turn back, wretch!**_ screeched the second. He began to notice that the oily black creatures were becoming fewer in number; as grey beams of light from the windows hit them, they seemed to melt into the concrete steps and disappear. The voices, too, became fainter and less potent as he climbed. Finally, he saw the door to the roof. The girl stood in front of it, a faint, wry smile on her lips. Without a second thought, L slammed it open and pelted into the open air, and it closed slowly on the faint, hideous screams of his tormenters.

* * *

Maria did not so much as twitch when L staggered out of the stairwell. She continued her song as if he did not even exist. L, however, was very much aware of _her_. He stood there, staring at her, panting, as if she were the first human being he had seen in centuries. He stumbled closer, drawn by her melody even though he could not understand the words. As he drew near, the roof became awash with golden light as the sun burst through the clouds and painted a brilliant rainbow in the glistening drops of the retreating storm. The rain slowed to a gentle drizzle, and a light breeze played through strands of their drenched hair. Maria ceased her song as the sun intensified, opened her eyes, and turn to face L gravely as he lurched towards her until they were nearly touching, their faces inches apart as he towered over her. Their eyes locked for a moment, peace and pity in hers, desperation and darkness in his. Then, wordlessly, he collapsed into her arms.

* * *

**And now, the question that is probably in some of your minds: How much of the events of L's day were simply his imaginations?**

**I'm going to be slightly mean, and not tell you. After all, I never can tell what will ruin the story for you...**

**Two things to look forward to:**

**L and Maria's truce**

**and**

**Enter Misa, Stage Left!**

**Humbly yours,**

**~Terence Waverly**


	9. Chapter 8

**The prodigal returneth! Pardon my absence, I have been busy.**

**Enjoy!**

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**Chapter 8**

L awoke with a start, nearly capsizing his chair. He reflexive grab for the desk before him was the only thing that saved him from a rather cacophonous and undignified proclamation of his regained consciousness. His eyes snapped about the room; there was no sign of any creature –apparitional or otherwise –in his environs. He breathed a small sigh of relief. _It must have been a dream…_ he mused. His mind responded to it in such a bewildered fashion that he half-wondered if it had been real for a moment; but no, that was impossible. _Well, of __**course**__ it was a dream! Either that, or you're closer to that padded cell than you thought, my friend,_ he admonished himself.

He sighed gustily, leisurely allowing his eyes to peruse the consoles before him. Maria was conspicuously missing from her usual haunts. _Where is that girl? … Perhaps she disobeyed me; after all, I have no idea how much of the past few hours were simply my imagination. Well, if she did, there will be consequences, regardless of what Watari says. On the other hand, it's not safe to make her leave, now that she's spent every waking minute scouring the place. She knows the layout quite well, by now –that I can be sure of. Tch; she chafes me… I cannot control her, and it offends my pride!_ He scoffed at himself,_ Ah, I am such a child! I always seek to have mastery of that which I could never control… Perhaps I should have let her go, after all; Watari would have watched faithfully enough, and it would have been interesting to see what she would do –or what she didn't do…_ A slight smile twitched momentarily on his lips. _Maybe I will let her go next time –I could tail them. It's been some time since I last set foot in a church…_ He chuckled to himself. The laugh had an odd sound to it. _From under-use, I expect. So little to laugh about in a profession like mine-_ He froze when he heard an echoing laugh in the rafters.

… _Or maybe it wasn't a dream…_ his mind meandered as he swiveled his chair and turned his gaze upwards. Nothing. Simply the semi-darkness that always hung there like a foreboding canopy. He glared at an innocent support. _Yes, doctor, I'd like to take a tour; is there such a thing as a padded cell with a view?_ His eye twitched. _Oh, shut up. Yes, talking to yourself will definitely support the case for your sanity. … Oh, now the silent treatment? How mature. … Well then, be that way._ The laugh came again. L was torn between extreme annoyance and riveting fear. His inner dialogue faded, though, as fear won over. His eyes darted about, trying to fix the position of the invisible mocker.

Silence pervaded the room again, stealing like a soft shadow in the wake of the amused invader. He remained utterly still; tense; waiting. He could feel eyes on him –he fought off a shiver that was slowly but surely crawling up his spine. A light breeze blew against the back of his neck, causing the hairs to stand on end, but he dared not look behind him. He knew that he would see only the monitors, and then the derisive interloper would voice his mirth again. He waited, rigidly patient, to catch the intruder off-guard.

The breeze then gently stirred his hair, beckoning him to turn his attention elsewhere, but he remained steadfast, scanning the room constantly. Then, just when he could take the stillness no longer, a soft voice appeared right next to his ear. "_Boo!_" it whispered mischievously. Startled, L rocketed out of his chair, rolling as he hit the ground, and pivoted to face his tormenter in a low crouch. However, his tormenter seemed in no mood to take his threatening stance seriously. Clear, crystal laughter rolled from the lips of Maria, who was currently in a rather ridiculous inverted position, defying gravity by means of a thick rope attached to a safety harness, both of which L himself had provided her with the day before. L slumped out of his position, falling backwards and catching himself easily with his hands. "You… should have seen… your face!" she gasped amidst her laughter. "What I wouldn't have given for a camera!" L pouted a little, annoyance and utter relief battling unconcernedly within him. She paused her laughter and considered him, her eyes alight with mischief, biting her lower lip a little, and smiling in the most adorable fashion. "It's your own fault, you know," she teased, "falling asleep like that after giving me such fun toys." She gestured to her current supplemental gear. "Well, at least you know it works," she added cheerfully, as he glared at her quite ferociously.

He noted, with further relief, that she was wearing her customary long-sleeved shirt and jeans. _It __**must**__ have been a dream_, he confirmed, remembering the getup in which he had pictured her. _She was quite attractive in it, though…_ he growled in annoyance as he rose, slapping down the unruly thought. He reclaimed his chair and swung it around to face her, her eyes level –if upside-down –in relation to his own. She continued to grin as he glared at her point-blank, their eyes only a centimetre or two apart. If he wanted to, he mused, he could reach out and quite easily capture her braid, which had been swinging back and forward quite tantalizingly for some time now. Just then, it swung back again, tickling his bare feet as it passed.

Then, as he concentrated on her eyes, time seemed to slow to a crawl, and the glare melted from his gaze. He had rarely been so close to any human –much less a girl; much less one as beautiful as Maria. He felt himself being swallowed by the power he her gaze –the intricate patterns of her prismatic grey irises transfixed him; sucked him in to the depths of her obsidian pupils. Wild, dangerous thoughts played precariously around the edges of his mind as he continued to explore. His breath hitched and his chest tightened as she absorbed his scrutiny, allowing him in. _Is this what Light felt? This –this… mesmerization?_ Suddenly, she righted herself, nearly knocking her head with his as she she did so. "Well, back to work," she smiled cheerfully, and re-ascended to the rafter from whence she had come. She then captured a conveniently placed rag and resumed what he assumed was some sort of cleaning.

Even after avoiding their literal near head-on collision and her subsequent ascension, L's mind was still reeling. _Such intensity in that gaze… She simply cannot be an ordinary woman._ He sighed in appreciation of her talents, but then returned to the business at hand. _Well, If I'm going to mend bridges with her and let her go off next Sunday, I might as well start the tactic change now,_ he decided. Out loud, he called, with just the right mix of contrition and hesitation, "Maria?" She poked her head out from behind the vertical support she was cleaning. "Yes, Ryuuzaki?" she responded cheerily. He put on his best ashamed face. "I… I… I'm sorry; I should have let you go today. It was unreasonable of me –and… childish," he apologized haltingly, keeping his eyes on her to gauge her reaction.

Maria quirked and eyebrow and smiled knowingly. "You oughtn't apologize for something unless you actually meant it," she admonished a little dryly. L opened his mouth to try again, but she held her hand up, stopping him. "However," she continued, "I accept your apology, however insincere. Let's be friends –or allies at least. Otherwise, we'll drive each other quite mad. –Probably end up demolishing the entire building somehow or other," she offered, a little jokingly at the end. "Friends…" L considered, rolling the idea about his mind. "Yes. I agree. We ought to be friends," he decided evenly. Maria smirked teasingly, and L pinned her with a glare that fell a little short of displaying true anger. "For the common good," he added in the same tone. "For the common good," she agreed, smiling warmly.

"I don't suppose you noticed Maria's little temper-flare yesterday, did you, Light," Ryuk began conversationally. Light had been waiting for some time for him to speak as they wandered the empty park for the past hour or so. "Actually, I did. Something about going to church… Seems that would narrow down your choices, no?" he replied calmly. "Not really," Ryuk responded. Light looked at him askance.

"You think a demon can't go into a church? Really, Light, are you that foolish? The power of He Who Shall Not Be Named dwells in people, not places. A church is a building, you know –or at least, you ought to," Ryuk admonished. "The reason I brought it up is this: you couldn't feel the power coming off her when she became angry. I have never felt such danger in my entire life –and I have escaped the clutches of some of the most powerful fallen angels loose on this earth. I've also had my fair share of run-ins with the pure ones, but never have I been in such close proximity to such a potent spirit. It's impossible for me to tell the origin of that power, but regardless of its source, we tread a treacherous path, here, Light." Light scanned the horizon, absorbing this, and nodded.

"You need to be more prepared, Light; Maria is something far beyond anything you've ever faced before. In fact, you might want to make a visit to a church, yourself," Ryuk commented. Light's eyebrow rose. "And _why_, pray tell, would I want to do _that_?" he challenged, his tone mildly derisive. "Because, as far as I can tell, you can't answer your own prayers," Ryuk countered. Light rolled his eyes. "Make your point, Ryuk," he ordered tiredly. "You need to go to a church –to pray," Ryuk advised, "that Maria is indeed a demon, because if she is an avenging angel, we are both dead."

* * *

**Well, there you go. Please let me know if you liked it! I am not above taking suggestions.**

**Next, we shall meet Misa!**

**Onward!**

**Humbly Yours,**

**~Terence Waverly**


	10. Chapter 9

**Since my absence was rather prolonged, I thought I would be nice, and give you an extra chapter.**

**I suppose I'm spoiling you, but I prefer to think of it more as rewarding your patience.**

* * *

**Chapter 9**

Light's ringtone ripped through the silence of L's headquarters. Light watched with satisfaction as L cringed and glared at him. "Yagami…" L growled. Light turned his eyes to the detective's innocently as he nonchalantly picked his cell phone up from his desk. "Yes, Ryuuzaki?" he asked blithely, pausing his hand –and therefore his phone –in midair. The phone rang again, and L flinched visibly with annoyance. "_Answer that_," L snarled. Light savoured L's wet cat impression for a moment longer, and then complied. "Yagami Light," he heralded blandly.

"Light!" a feminine voice squealed on the other end so loudly that Light pulled the phone away from his ear and grimaced. "Hello, Misa," he returned calmly. "I wanna come see you, Light; it's been like for_ever_," Misa complained. Light rolled his eyes. They had spent almost the entire previous day together. Misa continued, "I miss you soooo much! I think we should go on another date, soon… I got this new dress yesterday –it's sooooo cute! You'll love it! And there's this new movie that just came out –one of my friends said it was like the best one ever! She cried at the end… We have to go see it! And then we could-" "Misa," Light interrupted, resting his head on his free hand. "Yes honey?" Light's eyes rose skyward. "I'm relatively free right now, if you want to stop by," he suggested calmly, shooting a glance toward L to gauge his reaction. He was rewarded by an almost imperceptible twitch of his opponent's right hand, although L's eyes remained glued to his consoles. "Really?" Misa squealed. Light winced. Annoying L had its price: at the moment, it was Light's eardrums. "Of course," Light responded.

"Okay, then come down here," she ordered excitedly. Light felt a sense of impending doom. "Misa?" he asked tiredly. "Yeah, handsome?" she responded blithely. Light barely resisted the urge to stab himself repeatedly with nearby office supplies. "Where are you?" he continued, already knowing –and dreading –the answer. "Waiting downstairs," she answered cheerfully. Light glanced up at the monitor for the entrance camera. Sure enough, there stood his 'girlfriend', dressed in fishnet stockings, a miniskirt, and a tank top that could hardly be considered decent. Off to the side, he could also see someone else: Maria, cleaning the glass doors in her customary garb. The contrast was glaringly obvious. "Coming," Light sighed before terminating the call. "I'm going down to see Misa," he informed the other members of the task force as he rose from his chair. "Don't take all day," L muttered as Light left the room.

After admitting Misa, Light admonished, "Not exactly the best time or place, Misa." Misa slid her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his, fluttering her eyelashes at him innocently. "Didn't you want to see me?" she purred. "Of course I did; but we're rather busy up there, you know?" he countered mildly. Misa gave him a peck on the lips. "You're getting too involved in your job, Light; you need to spend more time with me," she pouted cutely, pressing harder against him. He wound his arms around her. _I have to keep up this charade_, he reminded himself. He allowed a little desire to color his voice. "Now, you know I can't do that; I have important things do to," he murmered, leaning his head down and pressing his lips to her neck. She gave a little appreciative moan and slid her hands down to his chest. _Putty in my hands_, he congratulated himself. As he raised his eyes, though, he locked gazes with Maria, who had paused her cleaning to watch them. Her expression was blank, except for the smallest hint of curiosity and, yes, amusement.

"Let's not get too carried away, Misa dear; we have company," he informed her, his tone promising to make up for it later. Misa turned around slightly, still pressing herself against Light as much as she could, until she spotted Maria. Her eyes narrowed possessively as she gauged the girl. _Is she after Light?_ Misa wondered jealously. "Misa, this is Maria; she lost her family, so she's staying here to help out with the household chores, as it were," Light introduced, lifting an arm to gesture to Maria. "Maria, this is Misa," he continued after Misa nodded aloofly at Maria. He stepped back a little from Misa as he did so, hoping to regain a little personal space. Luckily, Maria seemed ready to help. "You're Misa! Oh my gosh, Light like, _never_ stops talking about you! It's _soooo_ cute! I feel like I know you already," she gushed, closing in on Misa and hugging her briefly, but effusively. Misa brightened a little, especially at her statements concerning Light and her apparent lack of interest in him beyond said statements. "You are _soooo_ lucky to have a boyfriend like him!" Maria continued happily, gazing cheerfully into the other girl's eyes as if they had been friends all their lives. "You _have_ to help me find a guy of my own," Maria informed her conspiratorially. "I just got here, so I have, like, _no one_ to talk to!" she pouted. Misa's smile grew, and immediate friendship blossomed in her heart for the poor foreign girl stuck with all those boys all the time.

_She __**needs**__ me!_ Misa exulted happily. She examined Maria's clothing. –_**Really**__ needs me. She'd be really cute, except for those clothes –although she doesn't look half-bad in them_, she admitted to herself. "Girl, we have to get you to a mall, if you ever want a man," Misa commanded knowingly. She gave Maria another once-over. "Until then, though, you can wear some of my clothes; you're not _too_ much taller than me," she decided with a nod. It was true; Maria was only a few inches taller than Misa, and, in Misa's mind, clothing that was a little tight and a little short never hurt anyone. "Oh, I wouldn't want to get your stuff dirty, though –I work, like, _all_ the time!" Maria half-pouted, half-apologized. "Well, we can change that, too," Misa waved her off, enjoying the sweetness of her newfound companion.

Just then, Misa's cell phone buzzed in her purse. "Oh! I have to get back to the studio!" she exclaimed, looking towards the door regretfully. "See you later Maria; bye-bye Light!" she waved as she passed through the automatic doors. Light approached Maria until he was abreast of her, and together, the gazed after Misa.

"I admire your perseverance, but not your actions. It's really not fair to string her along like that," Maria admonished him seriously as they watched Misa strut away with her hips swinging enticingly. "I'm not proud of the way I've treated her," he admitted, still regarding the girl's retreating figure. "However, I think that finding out that I didn't love her would probably crush her," he commented, a little helplessly. "And you think waiting to tell her will help," Maria retorted dryly. "Regardless of _your_ true feelings, that girl likes you; a lot. It's never wise to play with hearts," she warned. Light slid his gaze sideways.

"So say you," he needled a little. She turned a little to regard him, a small smile on her face. "I know that I have a rather… magnetic personality, shall we say. I also know that occasionally, people find me extremely attractive," she admitted calmly. Light cocked an eyebrow. "Occasionally?" he queried mildly. His response seemed to amuse her a little. "However," she continued, her face suddenly quite solemn, "It's always your choice as to how you react." Her eyes locked with his. "You _always_ have a choice," she reiterated, quietly but earnestly. Light sighed and looked away. "As always, you are right. I'm afraid that I'm rather more prone than most to fall for you, though," he lamented softly.

She reached out and lightly placed a hand on his nearest shoulder. "But you are _good_," she countered, her eyes shining with a peculiar light. He cocked his head a little to the side. "Well, I don't know about that," he mused. She smiled compassionately, but made no reply. "In any case," he continued, "you can't blame me for keeping my options open," he asked, stepping closer to her and gently tucking a stray strand of silky hair behind her ear. He let his hand lightly trace her jawline as it fell back to his side and he gazed into her eyes. _She is dangerous… But that is probably part of the reason why I am so attracted to her_, he thought as he allowed himself to become lost in her eyes. After a moment, though, she broke the spell. "We both ought to get back to work," she said softly, dropping her hand from his shoulder. He caught it in his own as it fell and gently rubbed his thumb across the back of it. _If I could rule the world with her at my side…_ "You are far better than I," he informed her softly, "but I will try not to disappoint you." He carefully released her hand, and walked away, wishing that the ache in his chest were just his imagination. _She is controlling me; changing me… and I don't mind at all._

* * *

**And so closes another chapter. As I said before, yes, this really will turn out to be an LxMaria pairing; just be patient. It just seems to me that L and Light are so similar in certain ways that it would be impossible to attract one without also attracting the other. The difference is simply that Light has a possible place for her in his plans; L does not.**

**I shall try to update more regularly! Please let me know how I am doing; I want you to enjoy the story as much as I do!**

**Humbly Yours,**

**~Terence Waverly**


	11. Chapter 10

**I return! I have not much time, so I will keep this short: for you!**

* * *

**Chapter 10**

With the advent of L and Maria's mutual understanding came a calm that, though most likely a façade, was rather a relief in the extra tension caused by her arrival. The terms of their truce, as it appeared to the other members of the team, could be summed up quite simply: reciprocal avoidance. Maria was not, as a rule, much of a socialite, but while she would freely converse with any of the other team members, she rarely so much as glanced in L's direction. In return, Light, especially, was amused to note that, in Maria's presence, L became even more, well, _L_-ish. In fact, even some time after she would leave L's sphere of detection, he would continue to exhibit a specially intense reticence that delighted Light to no end. He, of course, used these opportunities of increased tetchiness on L's part to subtly annoy and distract his formidable nemesis.

During especially intense fits, all Light needed to do was wander into the detective's peripheral vision in order to earn a coruscating glare, which, of course, he would respond to by wandering nonchalantly out of the room in search of Maria. Milder cases, however, took a bit more finesse: slyly pilfered strawberries, personal contact of any kind, and, of course, the electric buzz of a cell phone were Light's weapons of choice in such instances. He couldn't deny that, although these stunts served a greater purpose –namely, destroying the concentration of one of the most powerful minds in the history of the world –he also rather enjoyed his teasing and brushes with danger, however trivial: especially since things were relatively quiet on the Kira front. The team, thanks to Light and other forms of bad luck, had made no appreciable progress in some time, and, if he was honest with himself, Light had to admit that it was boring him, a little. Of course, he vastly preferred his safety and freedom and the present time, but he yearned for something –some_one _–to outwit.

_And so we return, as always, to Maria,_ mused Light, absently –or perhaps not so absently –tapping a pen slowly against his bare desk as he leaned back in his chair, watching L twitch coincidentally with the sound. A tiny smirk graced his lips, and he turned his hooded eyes upward to glance at Ryuk. Ryuk's mood had settled from frenetic to ambivalent, but Light wasn't sure which was worse. He sighed. Only that morning, he had had to pretend not to watch as Ryuk bounced around in the rafters like a pin-ball and occasionally took a side-trip through a wall or two –all because Maria had poked her head in the door to wish the team good morning. Currently, however, his retainer was lounging listlessly above him on a convenient bit of nothing, looking a bit boneless. Light fought the urge to roll his eyes. _Sometimes I don't know who is worse: Ryuk, or Misa._

His cell phone blared suddenly, causing both him and L to start, simultaneously. Too disgruntled himself to enjoy L's discomfort, he snatched the offending item from his desk top and answered coolly, "Yagami Light."

"Liiiiiiiight!"

_Speak of the devil…_ "Misa," declared Light, fighting the urge to cover his face with his free hand.

"Can you come open the door for me _pleeeease?_" Misa sang.

"Of course; I'll be there momentarily," Light acquiesced, waving off L's imperious demands about the details of his conversation and heading for the door. He was treated to incessant chatter full of clothing, shoes, accessories, and pet names as he traversed, but he had long ago learned how to tune such things out. _Her visits are certainly getting more frequent… Either she's growing more clingy, or she's found something here that adds to her interest,_ he hypothesized. Just then, Misa addressed him by a particularly sappy term, and he grimaced. _Maybe both. I hope…_

"Oh! And Light, baby?" cooed Misa.

"Yes, Misa?" Light replied tiredly, about to turn the corner that led to his destination.

"Get Maria for me, would you?" she commanded.

_Maybe there __**is**__ a God,_ decided Light, gratefully retracing his steps in search of the elusive houseworker. "You'll have to give me a moment to find her," Light admonished, "She doesn't really stay in one place. I'll bring her when I find her, all right?"

"Umm, OK. See ya soon, lover boy," Misa crooned.

"Goodbye, Misa," Light sighed gratefully, ending the call before his girlfriend could say anything else.

He stopped back in the control room briefly to pinpoint Maria's current location, and then traveled hence in pursuit. Upon his reaching her, she looked up in surprise. "This isn't another rescue mission of yours, is it? I ask, because the last one didn't go so well," she teased. He smiled gently.

"Perhaps I just need more practice," he suggested, drawing closer. She squinted and cocked her head at him endearingly.

"Misa is here; she asked after you," Light explained after a few minutes of comfortable silence. Maria's eyes brightened.

"I was hoping to see her soon," she responded cheerfully.

"I am glad to hear it; I fear that I shall have need of your enthusiasm –and… your support?" he ventured tentatively. Maria shook her head and _tsk_ed him, lightly disapproving.

"I tell you: if you don't like her, you ought to tell her; otherwise, you're wasting her time –not to mention your own," she warned. Light sighed.

"It's harder than you think. Breaking a heart is not a matter to be taken lightly," he countered, stepping closer to tower over her. Maria nodded knowingly, her smile tinged with sadness.

"Hearts mend," she whispered, lowering her eyes to Light's broad chest. As she did so, she reached out and tenderly tapped it over his heart with a forefinger. Light's system shocked at her touch; the dark shrouds of gloom and listlessness seemed to evaporate before her. He felt lighter –almost free: as if he could end everything and simply walk away to a new life. He stood there, frozen in awe of the girl who could spellbind him with the slightest touch. She began to lower her hand as she bowed her head, as if in the throes of intense concentration.

Finally, Light managed to speak, although he barely recognized the voice he heard as his own. "You could… mend _me_?" he rasped, capturing her hand and pressing the palm against his heart while tipping her face up to meet his gaze. She nodded solemnly.

"Anyone can be mended," she replied with quiet confidence. "But Misa is waiting," she reminded him, abruptly changing the subject and slipping from his grasp as easily as water. _What __**is**__ she?_ he wondered, still staggered as he followed her down to the waiting Misa.

After exchanging the necessary pleasantries, Misa announced the reason for her appearance that day. "We've just _got_ to get you some new clothes! You're _never_ gonna get a guy if you spend all your time in here and looking like that!" she warned Maria.

Maria brightened at the mention of an extra-building excursion, but admitted, "I'm afraid that won't work so well; I haven't any money." Misa waved her off.

"I've got _tons_! I don't model for _free, _you know," she smirked. That decided, the group journeyed to the control room to inform L of their imminent departure.

"We're going out," Misa announced to L as she burst into the room, bubbling with happiness. L was not infected by her joyous spirit.

"You've never informed me that you were going on a date before," he commented dryly, "Why the sudden change?" Misa blinked, confused. Then, she understood.

"Oh, you think I'm going with _Light_!" Misa giggled. L looked suspicious. "I'm going to the mall… with _Maria_," she informed, as if that clarified everything. L's visage became mutinous. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a sound, Maria crossed the room amazingly quickly, selected a large strawberry from the bowl on L's desk, and efficiently stopped his mouth with it. His eyes widened, and he reached up to remove it, but she smiled sweetly and tapped his nose.

"I'll be back in time to make dinner," she told him as a mother might a worried child. Then, she turned and gracefully walked toward Misa. "Let's go," she exclaimed happily, and the twosome filed back out of the room. L remained frozen, hand still raised, for a few seconds after they had gone, and then he relaxed back into his chair, staring at the door by which they had exited, with the air of a rather confused puppy. Of course, he also ended up looking utterly ridiculous, since the strawberry was still perched in his mouth. Light was hard put to it not to laugh as he studied his bemused antagonist. _He can't figure her out, either,_ he concluded gleefully.

* * *

**As I mentioned above, my time is short. I hope you enjoyed it! Feel free to review!**

**Humbly Yours,**

**~Terence Waverly**


	12. Chapter 11

**Ah! I did not have time to mention this when I loaded the last chapter, but, Megii of Mysteri OusStranger: in deference to your eyes.**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter 11**

The problem with going on a shopping spree with Misa is that, while she was looking for one thing for someone else, she would find at least ten others that she simply _had_ to try on herself. As a result, Maria spent only the first few minutes actually trying on clothes herself; the rest was spent admiring Misa's endless combination of different articles of clothing. However, Maria did not seem to mind.

As soon as Misa had disappeared into the dressing rooms, she turned and calmly addressed a patch of air a few feet up from the bench on which she reclined: "It's been a while, Rem." Rem turned her head sharply to regard the relative stranger lounging casually below her. She looked about, searching for someone else that Maria could be talking to. "Yes, I'm talking to you. I can see you, you know. Don't you remember me?" Maria asked, mildly amused. Rem turned her eyes slowly back to her companion, unable to accept the horrifying reality: Maria was looking directly at her.

Rem tried to place the girl in her mind; she knew that she had seen that face before –in fact, she had seen it more than once. However, the memory was buried deep within her mind, where she kept those bits of her existence that she had hidden inside her, so she wouldn't have to think about them. She blinked, but remained silent, unable to remember, although shadows of memory flickered on the edge of her consciousness.

"What about now?" Maria continued, her eyes suddenly glowing faintly with flame invisible to the ordinary human eye. An unbearably powerful aura expanded out from the reclining female like a shock wave, blanketing their surrounding with the same invisible flames and sending Rem reeling backwards, gasping for air. Rem clutched her throat, eyes locked on the girl in horror. _Black wings rising from inky darkness._ The memories brushed her mind softly. _Shades of grey everywhere –except for the sky._ She shuddered, wanting to shut them out, force them back from whence they came. _Splashes of red –the only lurid spots of color in a grey field._ Her mind fought valiantly, but it could not win against the rushing tide of power. _Black feathers fluttering to the dark earth, framed by a midnight sky –and then light; brilliant, all-consuming light!_ Then Rem knew.

"_You_!" she almost accused, horror and fear evident in her strangled whisper. Still trembling, she searched frantically for an escape. _But I can't leave Misa_, her heart reminded her. Her gaze fell on the unknowing swarm of people around her, ironically unaware of the powerful, dangerous being that was resting so calmly amidst them. Then, Maria shut her eyes, and the power vanished as suddenly as it had come.

"Such a tone!" she exclaimed, wounded, "you're going to hurt my feelings, Rem." Rem lowered her hands, but kept her distance. _She's here to kill me_, she thought almost blandly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Maria's eyes softened a little.

"Do not be afraid; I am not here to harm you," she reassured the shivering shinigami.

"How can I know that I can trust you?" Rem bit out, barely able to keep herself from running away, Misa or no Misa.

"Have I ever lied to you?" Maria reprimanded her gently. Rem hesitated, but then approached the girl again, although she stopped at what certainly would be called a respectful distance.

"What do you want?" she mumbled nervously.

"To talk," Maria replied. Rem did not look convinced. "Rem, if I were going to kill you, I would have done it already," Maria reminded her, slightly exasperated.

"Pardon me if I don't view that statement to be as reassuring as you seem to think," Rem replied tremulously. Maria shrugged carelessly.

"Suit yourself," she told the shimigami. "You are fond of Misa," she stated, changing the subject abruptly and gazing towards the dressing rooms. Rem almost replied, already feeling the effects of Maria's charm, but she managed to refrain. Maria waved off Rem's obstinacy.

"Well, it's not as if I can't tell, after all," she sighed. "You've come a long way from when I first met you; that's for certain," she added approvingly.

"Coming from you, I'm not sure if I consider that a compliment," Rem stated a little cattily. Maria's eyes danced with amusement.

"I see that your sense of humor hasn't changed, at least," she chuckled. Then, she became solemn. "It's a fine line you're treading, though, Rem," she reminded the shinigami, "If you're not careful…"

"Yes, yes, I'll fade away into dust, and all that," Rem snarled, irritated. She pinned the girl with a glare. "What I want to know is this: why are _you_ here?" she commanded, with more bravery in her voice than she felt.

"I'm just here to keep an eye on things, as it were," Maria answered calmly, "I have my orders, and you… well, your lot kind of does whatever they feel like, eh?" Rem looked slightly uncomfortable., but she hardened herself.

"What has this got to do with me?" Rem pressed warily. Maria feigned hurt.

"What, I can't check up on an old friend?" she challenged.

"I'm not your friend," Rem rebutted rapidly. Maria let out a gusty sigh.

"Well, have it your way, then. As far as you are concerned, our goals are the same," Maria admitted frankly. Before Rem could question her further, Misa came out to model her next ensemble. Of course, it took a few minutes of admiration on Maria's part to coax Misa back into the dressing rooms. As soon as she was safely removed, though, Rem continued her interrogation.

"Our goals have _never_ been the same," she bit out harshly. Maria gave her a sideways glance.

"Maybe not entirely; but here, I assure you, they are. As I said, I have my instructions in this business," Maria stated confidently.

Intrigued against her better judgment, Rem allowed herself to ask, "And they are…?" Maria adjusted herself to face the shinigami head on.

"As far as they would concern you, I have but one: to make sure that that girl," Maria pointed towards the dressing room in which Misa currently resided, "Makes it through this mess alive."

* * *

L had been in an odd mood ever since Maria had left the control room. Eventually, of course, he had eaten the strawberry –and its companions –so he no longer looked quite so ridiculous, but the air of puzzlement remained, along with what seemed to be a tinge of impatience. He gazed at his array of monitors with unseeing eyes, but the fingers of his right hand were tapping a rapid, intricate tattoo against the top of his desk.

_I don't understand her; I don't understand how we relate to each other… How do we fit together? Yagami and I are not so dissimilar –so why does she gravitate towards him, but keep me at a distance? I want to know more about her, but __**why**__? I can't honestly say that it's just because I need to now how she'll respond to every situation; I know better than that, now. I want something from her. Every time I see her, I'm struck by how isolated I am –but what could she possibly do about __**that**__? Am I just jealous of Yagami's intimacy with the girl? Am I jealous that he could get close to her, get information out of her, but I can't?_ L sighed and shifted listless eyes to the next screen to maintain the illusion that he was studying them. _What is wrong with me?_ he wondered, almost desperately.

No one else in the room seemed to notice anything unusual about his current behavior; of course, they never did. In fact, L had taken great pains to ensure that, in certain capacities, he always remained a mystery to his companions. _If they learn too much, it could be the end of me,_ he reminded himself. This didn't stop him from feeling the effects of his self-isolation, though. _I envy ordinary people,_ he thought bitterly, _and yet, I dwell in a cage of my own making,_ he added ironically.

Even after Maria returned, L remained morose. He watched her via the monitors practically everywhere she went, puzzling over the effect she had had on him. A strange feeling in the pit of his stomach that he could only assume was dissatisfaction kept him from concentrating on anything important. _Why am I dissatisfied? I have no right to keep her prisoner here; I know my actions the first time she asked to leave were utterly ridiculous… That's not it! I already have far more control over her than I do anyone else –including Watari. It's just… watching her interact with everyone… makes me feel…? Makes me feel what? Sad? Angry? Depressed? Exasperated? …Lonely?_ His hands clenched into fists.

Once the others had gone for the day and Maria had finished the day's allotted tasks, she headed to her room to retire for the evening. As she opened the door, however, she was accosted.

"You said that we should be friends," L accused in a low tone, peering at her from underneath his dark forelocks. Maria turned her eyes to him and nodded solemnly.

"Yes," she replied, and then waited for him to continue.

"Then why…" he paused, unsure of how to proceed, for a moment. _Why am I nervous?_ he wondered, fiddling with his fingers and ducking his head. Maria said nothing, patiently waiting for his question. Suddenly, he jerked his eyes back up to hers and blurted, "Then why don't you treat me like the others? Why do you talk to them –stay close to them –but never have anything to do with me? What is so different between me and Yagami Light?" He dropped his head again and clenched his fists tightly, embarrassed. _I hadn't meant to say that last bit,_ he thought, blushing slightly.

Maria's eyes had focused in him keenly as he spoke. He was too ashamed of his petulance to risk looking at her after he had finished. After a few seconds, though, her feet appeared in his field of vision, just centimeters from his own. He still refused to face her. Then, he felt the tip of her finger slid softly under his chin and tilt it upwards. Her touched seemed to electrify him, and he found himself unable to resist as she silently demanded his attention.

She locked her eyes to his, searching them as she asked gravely, "Is that what you want?" He was unable to reply, spellbound by her proximity and those infinite grey eyes. They softened a little as they watched him, as if pitying his confusion.

"I treat you differently from the others because you _are_ different, Ryuuzaki. You are an entirely different class of person than they–" she paused, smiling slightly when he blinked in puzzlement –and just a tinge of hurt. She lightly brushed his cheek with her forefinger, and continued: "-And I _like_ you that way." Her eyes glowed warmly as the double shock of her action and her statement. Emotions ricocheted around inside his chest, his heart pounding a matching beat, and he felt his face flush as he began to tremble a little. _She… __**likes**__ me this way? She __**likes**__ who I am? How could she–? What do I say? What am I supposed to-?_ His breath hitched sharply as she brushed his soft hair away from his face, revealing his dark eyes.

She smiled happily at his bewilderment and let her fingers run through the silky locks as she returned her hand to her side. L was still frozen to the spot, unable to do or say anything. He felt as if she had just stirred his soul rather than his hair, and that touch, although deeply invasive, was not, he found, unwelcome. He had the sudden odd thought that she couldn't be real; that somehow, this was all another dream. He wanted to touch her, confirm that she was indeed real, but he couldn't muster the courage. Instead, he searched her eyes, as if pleading for help. She laughed gently.

"I won't break, you know," she smiled, capturing his hand and guiding it to her cheek. Emboldened, he traced her cheekbone with a shaky thumb, marveling at the feel of velvety skin beneath it. He felt her smile beneath his hand, felt her happy laughter bubble up from inside her frame before he heard it.

"See, I told you!" she declared, delight shining in her eyes. His eyes darted away from hers when she spoke and flitted around the hall, aware and a little afraid of the liberties he was taking. However, the enchanting openness of her personality drew his eyes back to her face, slowly, where they rested on her lips. He watched, entranced as one side curved up a bit more than the other. Then he realized that, since he was studying her so openly, …_She knows where my mind is going right now; what I want to do._ This realization caused him to flush even deeper and break both visual and physical contact. He busied his hands by intertwining them in from of him as he studied them intently. _What is __**wrong**__ with me?_

A third hand, Maria's, covered and stilled them. He stood completely still as she lightly stroked the back of his hand with her thumb.

"It's all right; I'm not angry with you. It's a completely natural reaction. Humans are made to relate to each other through more than just words, you know," she consoled him gently. He jerked his eyes up to hers and opened his mouth to speak, but he could form no words. His eyes, though, displayed his inner turmoil as clearly as if he had it written on his forehead. He had had so little experience with gentleness, with even the idea of anyone –save Watari –relating to him with tenderness, that he had forgotten the dangers that came with being close to another person. It left him so very vulnerable: full of a hundred nameless emotions that choked his mobility and reason and left him completely under her control. –And he _was_ in her control; she could have asked of him anything in that moment, and he would have done it –he knew that beyond the shadow of a doubt.

After a few moments of companionable silence, Maria reached up with her free hand and stroked his hair lightly, turning her face up under his, tantalizing him with her closeness. Her eyes radiated warmth and acceptance, and he basked contentedly in her rays.

"I _am_ your friend, Ryuuzaki," she confirmed quietly. "I am here. I won't forsake you." He nodded a little, soothed by her actions, and their faces nearly touched. With a final pat, she released him and backed away. She went back to her door and began to enter, but paused and turned in the doorway.

"Good night, Ryuuzaki," she said, her voice caressing his uncertain heart like a warm blanket. He raised his eyes to hers as she stood there, waiting. "Good night… Maria," he whispered.

* * *

**I decided that it was about time that I started developing the L/Maria relationship a bit more; after all, I couldn't leave you all hanging in that department for _too_ long.**

**Never fear, though. There will be plenty of opportunities for teasing your favorite detective in the chapters to come; it is inevitable. It's simply too much fun to watch him squirm!**

**I also hope that a little more revelation into Maria's background would interest you, so I let you see a bit more of her... 'supernatural side', shall we say.**

**Please feel free to comment, suggest, and question; your feedback is very important to me!**

**Humbly Yours,**

**~Terence Waverly**


	13. Chapter 12

**The Prodigal Returneth! (again...)  
I apologize profusely for my long and annoying absence; time and tide, and all that...  
Life has gotten between me and my beloved words, as it often does, and since I have been away from them so very long, you must forgive me if I indulge in some slightly random and overall rather delicious-sounding ones... (No, I am not gay; I just rather love words...)**

**Inimitable. Defenstration. Machicolation. Acrasia. Sleeve. Mountebank. Incantation. Concoction. Exacerbate. Pony.**

**Well, I feel a *little* better, now. Aldehyde.**

**Anyway, for you:**

* * *

**Chapter 12**

Even after their reconciliation, their daily routine did not see much of a change. L still ordered Maria about like a common servant, and Maria still blissfully ignored him –except to, on certain occasions, tease him. L's moods tended to swing just as violently as before, if not more so, and Maria was, as far as anyone on the team could tell, still closer to Light and Misa than to the mercurial detective.

This continuation of their previous pattern was mostly by L's design. He found that, now having found a friend in Maria, he was afraid to overstep his bounds because, quite frankly, he was afraid of losing her. Having had so little experience with friendship in general –and none at all that involved females in particular, he was uncertain as to what friendship with Maria entailed. He had many questions for her, but he was feared that asking her might offend her; that it was assumed that he ought to already know the answers to such things.

The most frustrating thing, though, was the fact that there was a part of him that knew better. He knew that he could ask her anything, and she would answer. If he offered her his hand, she would take it and willingly guide him down the strange new path that he had struck with her. _The real problem… is that I lack the courage,_ he admitted to himself ashamedly. _I am so afraid of losing her that I'm afraid to go near her!_ He bit back a helpless, self-deprecating laugh. _Ah, yes. L, the great detective, who has faced so many dangers and so much evil without batting an eyelash, is brought to his knees –by a simple offer of friendship,_ he mocked himself.

On the other hand, he knew that he walked a dangerous road. Not only was she an unknown –at least to a certain extent –but she also seemed to have extraordinary power over everyone she came in contact with: including Yagami Light and, of course, himself. Even though several days had gone by since his encounter with her, he could still feel her touch on his skin and the warm solidity of her flesh under his hand. He marveled at her power; feared it, even. Yet, he was drawn to it, as a moth is drawn to an open flame. He had a vague feeling that her power could consume him; destroy him. _However_, he mused, _that could be part of what draws me to her. Maybe it's that sense of hidden power that holds me in thrall. I have never before met someone who has –but does not use –their power. She is different; she could be famous, loved, and influential –and yet, she chooses to spend her days as servant to a reclusive, childish control-freak._

Just then, Maria entered the room, causing his entire body to tense. He half-hoped, half-dreaded that she would approach him, but Light intercepted her before L could interpret her intent in entering the room in the first place. She was wearing a new black scoop-neck shirt that Misa had picked out during their shopping spree, along with her customary jeans. The shirt provided a rare view of the pale skin of her graceful neck and part of her shoulders, showcasing more than usual the extraordinary harmony of her form and composition.

As Light greeted her, he allowed his hand to rest against the base of her neck and gently stroke its white column with his thumb. L felt his stomach knot with jealousy, and his hands clenched in frustration. _What right has he to touch her?_ He railed almost indignantly. _She is not common, like Misa. She is __**different**__. He ought to reverence her; treat her with the respect she deserves! And yet, what would I not give to be able to caress her thus?_ he reminded himself. _He is no less human than I; he must feel the same longings that I do. No; I cannot judge him for this behaviour –not when, given the chance, I would do the same myself,_ he admitted grudgingly. He looked after them mournfully as they headed out the door together. _But… must I only watch forever?_

Light was becoming more and more aware of how dangerous Maria was to his plans. He found that, when he was near her, all of his schemes seemed unimportant, as if the brilliance of her presence caused everything else in the world to become lackluster in comparison. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that, if she asked him to abandon his dreams, he would comply without a second thought. Perhaps it was current boredom; maybe something more –but either way, he still found himself unable to distance himself from her, regardless of the possible consequences. Human or demon, she controlled him absolutely, and part of him thrilled at the idea.

When they spent time together, they often spoke little, if at all, but there was comfort in their mutual silence –as if their souls needed no medium to be understood by the other. She rarely initiated physical contact between them, and when she did, there was nothing sensual in her advances. Her ministrations spoke of care rather than desire, but, although he would have gladly received signs of attraction, he found himself to be utterly content with her gentle, undemanding touches. There was something soothing about her approaches; unlike Misa, she gave without expecting a return.

He, however, was perfectly happy to reciprocate her contact, and did so often. Like her, he never let his hands wander anywhere that could be considered inappropriate, but he preferred to spend their stretches of silence by studying the delicate lines of her face or marveling at her strong, elegant hands –which seemed so frail compared to his own. She seemed to enjoy his attentions and never shrank from him: she made it plain that she trusted him utterly.

Light often turned his thoughts to her even when she was not with him: imagining how she would respond if he admitted to her that he was Kira –assuming that Ryuk was wrong and that she did not already know. He would imagine her responses to myriads of other events as well: trivial and monumental alike. The one thing that he never found himself wondering, though, was what she really was. Obviously, Ryuk's fears had to have some basis, but for some reason, he could not bring himself to imagine that she could belong to any class of being, carnal or ethereal. To him, she was one unto herself: no one else had ever been like her, and none would be after her. This, he found, was all the answer that he needed to the question of her true identity.

Ryuk, on the other hand, was absolutely beside himself with fear of Light's course of action. He constantly berated Light for continuing to relate to such a dangerous entity and continued his ridiculous paroxysms hourly when Light ignored him. He was outmatched in his uneasiness only by Rem, who, whenever Misa and Maria were together, hung back from the pair as if Maria were the very herald of death.

Maria never acknowledged either of the shinigami or gave any other indication that she knew they existed. After the incident with Rem, she completely ignored both death gods –not that this did anything to improve their moods. Maria seemed, all in all, perfectly content to continue things as they had been before.

L, however, decided that he was not. Although he was not brave enough to initiate contact of any kind between Maria and himself in the presence of others, he decided that he would explore the boundaries of their strange new friendship after the rest of the team had left that evening. Thus, armed with a bowl of strawberries, he set about his plan as soon as the control room had emptied.

He had last observed Maria heading toward her room, her work done for the day, so he struck out in that direction as well, bearing the weight of strawberries and apprehension. Every step he took required more than the one before it, and he struggled to keep from fleeing to the safety of his own room. He had made up his mind, though: _I __**will **__talk to her tonight. I will rid myself of these doubts once and for all!_

Finally, he turned into the hall that led to her room. His eyes automatically directed to her door, and what he saw there caused him to stop dead in his tracks: the door was partially open, and the object holding it ajar was Maria's prostrate form.

* * *

**So, there you have it -my returning installation!  
Yes, I know it's short... I have some editing to do on the chapter next, though, and I don't want to give you substandard work, after all.  
PLEASE review; your thoughts, criticisms and attention are of the utmost importance to me as I seek to give you the finest wordsmithing that my small talent in this craft will allow...  
Thank you also for your continued interest in my little fevered scribblings!**

**My dramatic side wishes to leave you all dangling for a bit, but after having forsaken you for so long, I admit that this hardly seems fair...  
We shall see...**

**Humbly Yours,**

**Terence Waverly**


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